


Tangled Twisted Torn

by SerenePhenix



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU/ Gabriel Agreste and Hawk Moth are two different people, Akuma, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Parenting, Character Study, Depression, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, LadyNoir - Freeform, Missing Persons, adrienette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5775082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenePhenix/pseuds/SerenePhenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had thought that keeping their hero personas and civil lives seperate would protect them.<br/>Accepting the fact she had been wrong was very difficult.</p><p>Helping her partner even more so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Climax

**Author's Note:**

> My first contribution to a fandom as cute and positive as ML has to come from the darkest pits of hell of course. This one has a better conclusion than beginning and it is also more of a character study.
> 
> I still hope you enjoy!

The situation was worse than she had anticipated as the pushed open the doors to the inner courtyard of her school. The midday sun cast a fresh glow into the gloom that pressed in on her from all sides, yet it did not lighten up the place nor its atmosphere.

As she ventured forth, letting go of the door, it shut closed and Marinette regretted it dearly not only because without the source of light the darkness pressed in on her but also because the loud clank that the door had emitted would alert whatever Akuma had taken residence here.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose, making her whirl around, feeling like she was being watched. But the court was deserted, enormous spider webs, both in their usual geometrical shapes and some more like drawn curtains with how thickly they were webbed, obscuring the ceiling and blocking off various stairs and doors.

For once, even in her Ladybug persona, she felt more than just apprehension – she was outright scared. Had there not been a desperate cry from across the phone line from Alya, screaming about a masked boy terrorizing the school, she might have arrived back from break to find herself in front of a building that was dead silent, wondering where everyone had gone.

She jumped about a mile when something crawled on her shoulder, the startled scream escaping her before she could stop it and brushing at her right shoulder frantically. She was surprised to see a spider, probably half as big as the palm of her hand, dropping on the ground and scuttle away urgently into the shadows.

A sense of foreboding filled her.

“I really, really don’t like this.”, she muttered to herself, mostly to calm herself and light the mood. It made her realize just why she was so on edge.

With urgency she snatched her yoyo from her hip, opening a channel to communicate her situation to Chat. The screen remained eerily blank as she tried even harder to get through to him but the call remained unanswered. Of all the times for him to not be available, this had to be the _absolute_ the worst.

His presence, and his night-vision especially, would make her feel her more secure. Even his exasperating puns would be welcome right now; anything to make her feel a little less small and desolate.

The air inside here was already affecting her: not a good sign. It meant that whatever Akuma she was dealing with had to be very powerful. Although she knew she could hold her own against an akumatized person whose anger or sadness were shallow, people with strong feelings like with Kim, Alya or the mime, made for formidable and redoubtable foes.

These were the kinds of Akuma that made her consider twice _even_ trying to handle the situation on her own.

But if the darkened screen was anything to go by, there really was no choice in the matter. Snapping her yoyo shut, Ladybug advanced carefully. The Akuma was hiding here somewhere and probably holding her friends hostage. A spike of fear shot through at the thought of Alya, Adrien, Nino and any of her classmates being trapped somewhere in this oppressing, dark liar that the Akuma had made out of her school.

Taking a run, she jumped up and grabbed onto the handrail of one of the staircases and hefted herself over it and onto the steps silently. Intuition telling her to further down the corridor, she made sure not to brush the nets obstructing her path. She was not sure if these were as sticky as your usual spider web or even more so because of their unnatural size.

The double doors to the auditorium were wide open like the maws of a hungry animal beckoning her inside. She was hesitant to enter. This could be a trap, it probably _was_ but the decision was taken from her when she was showered with a myriad of spiders, tumbling from the ceiling.

Screaming would have been a relief but she was too freaked out to even do that. She ran through the doors, panicked, trying to shake the little nuisances off of her and out of her hair. He shuddered violently in revulsion. Usually something like that would not faze her but the whole atmosphere made her more skittish than she ever would have allowed.

It was for things like this she needed Chat. True, she always told him off whenever he tried to joke during fights but what she wouldn’t give for one of his terrible puns right now. He may be clumsy and an incorrigible flirt but his presence at her side always held a comforting quality.

The hall was empty, webs spun across its ceiling and down over the windows over which the curtains had not been drawn, yet the silvery threads draped over them so thickly that light was scarce. It upset her that she had played right into her opponent’s hand.

A figure in the dark drew her attention. Electrifying, slitted green eyes gazed at her, her heart leaping up her throat with relief. She was about to call out to her partner for help, but the words died away when he moved closer into dim light that penetrated through a thick web on one of the windows.

“Who would have thought I’d be lucky enough to have a little Ladybug flying into my net.”

Marinette was too shocked for words at the sight greeting her.

“Surprised to see me?” His voice was smooth, just like when they were on patrol - unmistakeable. He considered her a moment longer, his eyes narrowing in a manner that was more threatening than playful. “Usually I would say ‘ _cat gout your tongue’_ but that really doesn’t fit anymore now, does it?”

Her mouth was dry and her mind still scrambling to regain full coherency as she looked at the person who was supposed to be her partner.

The black leather suit was almost the same, sans the characteristic ears, bell and the belt acting as a makeshift tail. A butterfly-shaped mask covered a little less of his face than his normal one, exposing a slanted nose and high, rounded cheeks. His hair was as wild and wind-swept as ever but it looked even more unkempt than usual. Peeking from beneath the golden locks was a purple headgear, four pointy spikes like pincers coming to frame the lower part of his face. Tigh-high black boots clicked too loudly on the floor as he took a few more languid steps towards her. She noticed a purple pattern that almost blended with the black of the rest of his outfit – a stylized spider web stretching out over his torso where his heart should be and two angular lines twisting around his arms like shackles, ending at the tip of the third finger at each of his hands.

A simple, violet rubber band, similar to the ones Nino liked to wear, stood out oddly against his ensemble. She instantly knew where the accursed butterfly had sought refuge.

She steeled herself, pushing the implications that came with the item into the back of her mind. The fact that his black ring was missing disturbed her. Hopefully it was still on his person and not already in the clutches of their enemy.

“What are you doing, Chat?”, it was less of a question and more of a demand. She could not figure it out - not just the part about how he had been influenced by Hawk Moth but also why he was targeting her school specifically. Dread pooled into her stomach like chips of ice. Did he know about her civilian identity and so by extension Hawk Moth?

He studied her face before looking off at the side, tapping his lip as though in thought.

“I don’t know.”, he mocked, giving her a feral smirk, “Maybe I happen to like this place?”

She stared at him not sure what to make of this kind information.

A spider had found its way onto his shoulder but instead of disgust a small smile showed as he gently petted it with a single finger. The whole image was unsettling, knowing that this was her partner and friend.

“Oh, the others are behaving.”, he murmured. Yet, with how silent it was, she did not even need to strain her ears, “That’s good.”

An angry frown settled on her face, taking a guess about who these “others” were.

“What did you do to the students?”

His attention was back on her, his smirk aggravating her all the more for how casual it seemed to be.

“Nothing much.”, he almost sing-songed as he slowly started to circle her at a distance, “I just roped them into staying here with me.”

She wanted to resist but it was impossible.

“Really, Chat? You still have to make lame puns when you’re possessed by an Akuma?”

It had been the wrong thing to say. Faster than she could comprehend, his arm had shot out and her foot was stuck in a white, sticky clump attached to the floor. She struggled hard as Chat closed the distance between them. He was not that much taller than her but in this instance he towered over her like a large predator, his acid green eyes burning.

“I am not Chat Noir.”, he hissed, his glare making her shrink back, “I am now _Fileur_.”

His hand twitched upwards as though ready to grasp her chin but to her astonishment he refrained from doing so, resorting to just staring at her with an unreadable expression.

The suffocating silence stretched and for once Marinette really had no idea what was going through the silly cat’s head. Usually he was so easy to read. Or at least that was what she liked to tell herself. After all she had never once seen him gaze at her with such broken but hopeful eyes.

She jerked when he lightly took both her hands, his touch nothing but a mere brush to her fingers. It was more disconcerting than if he had crushed them in his grip.

“My Lady,”, he began and she was startled when she involuntarily recognized something of Chat in that tone, “please stay here with me and the others.”

It made no sense. Just what emotion had bred the Akuma?

The answer became obvious when she managed to catch a glimpse of his expression through her own shock and bewilderment.

He was taught, anxiously waiting for her answer, anxious to see her turn her back on him and leave him behind. It broke her heart. She thought they’d established that he was important to her, her invaluable partner. She thought she’d made it clear that his presence was a welcome one. It had never occurred to her that he could feel lonely or doubt she would want him by her side.

But was it just that?

It couldn’t be. This was not just something between them. Why else would her friends and other students have been dragged into this mess? This boy, who she now had to accept was part of the student body of this school, maybe someone she knew and had most likely crossed paths with on a daily basis, was lonely - lonely enough to have become an Akuma. Her mind was racing, trying to narrow down the list of possible victims in record time. Maybe it could help her in swaying him, in distracting him enough to destroy the band and free him from the butterfly’s influence.

Nathanel sprang to mind but it was illogical, although the boy was indeed all by himself most of the time. Kim and Ivan were out of the count simply because of their height and she did not think that while her and Chat’s disguises altered their appearance in more subtle ways that it could actually hide that much bulk. Adrien she considered briefly, although that made no sense either, since he was popular and liked to spend time with Nino. Maybe she was on the wrong track and it was someone from another class…

His twitching fingers alerted her to the fact that he was still waiting, although resignation had mingled with the sadness.

“I see.”, he breathed, about to let his fingers slip but Ladybug, in a moment of desperate improvisation, held onto them more firmly.

Either she was now digging her grave or this crude plan that had taken root in her head might work out. She had to humor him long enough for her to slip off the rubber band and tear it apart. There was no other way!

“Actually”, she said, hoping that her voice sounded convincing enough, “I would like that.”

She hated how those words made his face glow; she hated how she would probably break his heart.

“Let’s go see the others!”, he said excitedly, suddenly buzzing with a giddy energy that was completely at odds with his hostile appearance. Seeing him so genuinely happy made her feel as though a nail was being driven into her chest. Hopefully, she would be able to make him smile like this again once he was back to normal.

His gloved hand went for her ear and she knew what he was about to do even before he had voiced it: “You won’t be needing these anymore.”

Luckily, her reflexes took over. Her left foot was stuck but with her right one still free, there was plenty she could do. She ducked away from his touch, dropping into a crouch and swiping her leg across the floor, tripping her surprised partner and slamming the heel of her foot onto his chest for good measure, effectively winding him.

Chat (because she _refused_ to call him anything but) was a gasping, spluttering mess on the floor and Marinette hoped she had not hurt him too bad. Knowing there was little time left, she took the string of her yo-yo between her fingers and with its help shaved off parts of the lumpy web that held her to the floor. Not looking back, she stormed out through the door, an outraged scream following in her wake.

She ran, dodging webs and nets that came flying from behind her, Chat already in pursuit.

In purr-suit.

God, she wanted to hit herself. Channeling her partner’s abysmal sense of humour would not help her freeing the latter. Taking a risk, she turned around just as she passed a huge glass display filled with art projects from students, throwing her yo-yo at it and making it topple over with a crunching thud, broken glass and contents spilling on the floor.

It forced Chat to retreat a step or two, but his accusing glare closed the distance between them effortlessly. Their staring stalemate was interrupted when a door behind Ladybug crashed open, flooding the corridor with sunlight.

With war cries, her friends and classmates emerged: Ivan and Kim were armed with broomsticks, while Nino brandished an oversized ruler for the blackboard like a sword. Alya looked downright ferocious with how the sharp edge of an equally large set square was pointed at Chat.

Others were huddled behind this intimidating frontline but the heroine could not distinguish what kinds of ‘weapons’ they had chosen to go against their foe with. She noted, with great worry, that Adrien was nowhere to be seen.

Alya gave a surprised “Ladybug?” but Marinette had no time to spare, because a panicked shout from Chat had her looking back at him.

His face was a mixture of deception and anger, laced with that fear she had seen earlier. For a moment, she was afraid that he would attack but he opted to take off through one of the overhead windows, seemingly not thinking he could take on so many adversaries, even if only one of them was on par with his abilities.

Ladybug followed him with her eyes, worry clenching her throat shut until it felt like it had shrunk down to the width of a one cent coin. She decided to run after him once she had made sure that everyone was safe.

Turning around, she looked straight at her best friend, the sight of her unharmed giving her all the strength and confidence she needed.

“Are you alright? Is everyone okay?”

Before Alya could even utter a sound, Chloé fought her way from the far back to the front, shoving and pushing at people, screeching and complaining at the top of her lungs: “Of course not! Couldn’t you have come earlier! All those spider webs are completely ruining my shirt!”

She wiped down her pristine white tank-top with a look of disgust, before Ivan removed her forcefully, her protest loud and clear but Marinette tuned it out in favour of listening to her friend.

“We are alright.”, she assured, exhaling slowly “Fileur didn’t do anything to us.”

Marinette blinked at her confusedly and Nino sprung in to clarify: “It’s crazy, but he actually never even touched a hair on any of us.”

“Yeah, he just herded us inside the classroom and simply glued the door shut with his web!”, someone, maybe Alix, shouted from the end of the mass of students.

That was not something Ladybug had expected. At least not from an akumatized victim. Although, Chat Noir always was too nice.

Maybe that was why he had become possessed in the first place…

She had to keep it together; she could not space out like this. She needed answers and leads.

“Did he say anything to you?”, she inquired, hoping that it might give her a hint as to what he was after, although she already had a good idea.

They suddenly looked very uncomfortable, as though they themselves had yet to wrap their minds about whatever words had undoubtedly been directed at them.

“Well,”, Alya finally said, “He was going on about how we would all stay here with him, that he just needed to find both you and my friend, Marinette, and that we would have all a great time together.”

“Is your friend alright?”, she ventured, thus ensuring no one would ever suspect her . “Is there anybody else missing?”

The fact that Adrien had been left out of the equation upset her. Did Chat maybe hold a grudge against the boy, wanting him left out or removed from the others because he had made friends so easily? Had he done something to him? There was something missing.

“Marinette was at home when the attack happened, so she’s fine but…”

“But another friend is missing. Adrien Agreste, the model, ya know?”, Nino asked and Ladybug nodded. She was taken aback by the dark boy’s crestfallen look.

“He ran off and before I could find him we were being attacked.”

Concern flooded her. She too had noticed something had been bothering her crush all day but any and all questions by his friends were met with a polite smile and a swipe of his hand.

“We gotta find him!”, Nino suddenly exclaimed with a shudder, which his classmates copied as they looked at their altered surroundings, “The classroom was downright cheery compared to this. He could be stuck somewhere!”

It was a difficult decision but Ladybug shook her head no: “It’s too dangerous. You all have to go home before Fileur can catch you all again. He is after the class as a whole. Once you separate he will have a much harder time accomplishing his goal.”

She could see them ready to protest but she stopped them with a sign of her hand.

“If you insist, I give you ten minutes to look for him but promise you will be gone if you do not find him.”

That made them comply and she readied herself to follow her partner through the remains of the window, when Alya, ever the journalist, asked the one question she had dreaded: “Hey, where is Chat Noir?”

She almost stumbled, the string of her yo-yo which was attached to a beam on the ceiling the only thing keeping her from falling.

“He is occupied.”

And she fled before she could give anything away. People’s memories were erased when they had been under the influence of an Akuma or its victim in an attack that altered their minds. Powers like those of Mr. Pigeon or Stormy Weather were not easily ignored and not wiped from people’s minds once she used her Miraculous.

The less people knew about Chat’s involvement, the better for him and his reputation.

Speeding over the roofs of the city, she sought out the highest point she could reach in the vicinity, but the altered Chat remained elusive, having left no indication as to where he was headed.

The glare of the sun’s rays was mocking her and Marinette felt like storm clouds would have been the most fitting setting for today’s events. She ventured down a boulevard, gauging the reaction of people, hoping for anything that could give away her partner’s whereabouts. People were pointing at her instead, frustration growing inside her, until her ears picked up the broadcast of a radio station from inside a red car with its windows down.

She hurried towards it, urging the gaping man inside to turn up the volume.

“…tourists and citizens are speaking of a black-clad man attacking anyone approaching Eiffel Tower.

Sounds quite troublesome, if you ask me Jean.

It is. The police forces can’t get past, seeing as their equipment and most of their men are stuck in some kind of net…”

She needn’t hear any more. Her body was on autopilot as she swung from roof to roof, crossing over courtyards with powerful jumps, her eyes trained on the tip of the city’s emblem.

From afar, she never would have noticed a change but as she landed at the foot of the tower, the silvery nets and glittering threads were impossible to miss in the sunlight. They barricaded the doors to the elevator, made accessing the stairs impossible and climbing in any other fashion was out of the question, the poor, terrified policemen stuck to beams a grim warning to anyone daring enough to try.

She saw Sabrina’s father, Roger, hurrying towards her but she decided it was best to avoid any sorts of questions that might give away the actual situation.

“Sorry, Mr. Roger but I have to go right now!”

Looking for a beam that was not coated she swung her way up, having an idea where exactly Chat had made his base.

The top was partly covered in what looked like a great cocoon of webs but an obvious opening gave her the possibility to enter with a leap.

She rolled onto the narrow platform, trying to quickly assess the situation, to make sure Chat could not surprise her with an attack from her dead angle.

She avoided the net aimed at her head by a hair, pivoting to face her partner. Chat stood behind her, shaking with unbridled anger, his hand that was not outstretched fisted in a manner that had to hurt his knuckles. He was breathing heavily through his nose as though there was not enough air entering his lungs, his mouth a pale thin line. The thing that surprised her the most was the moisture shining in his eyes.

“Why!”, he screamed, voice booming and filled with unrestrained rage, “Why are you trying to steal it all from me!”

She dodged as he threw another web at her, his accusation having thrown her off balance both physically and emotionally.

“I don’t know what you mean!”

She ducked under another onslaught of threads and nets, taking a few steps back, her words having rallied up her friend even more. If only she had called for her Lucky Charm before having entered his liar. Now, she would not get that kind of golden opportunity again.

“Talk to me, Chat! What are you so afraid of?”, she screamed at him, because _she_ was scared, scared for her friend whom she had never seen act like that, whom she wanted to help, who she wanted to save just as he had done so many times for her.

Her pleading eyes seemed to do the trick for he stilled in his attack, his eyes an open book, showing all his reluctance to hurt her, his inner turmoil, his uncertainty, his shame.

A pink halo of a butterfly illuminated his face, making him grunt and hold his head as if in pain. She had to act while Hawk Moth distracted him. Closing the distance between them with a powerful jump, she landed in front of him and grabbed his right arm with a bone-crushing force, anything to make sure that he could not get away.

Instead struggling or trying to push her off, he did yet again something she had not counted on: Locking his other arm just beneath her shoulders from around her back her trapped her against him, pressing hard enough that it became difficult to breathe.

The pink halo still rimmed his face as he stared at her intently, his mouth drawn into a snarl, although she could not say for sure if it was entirely directed at her.

She did not loosen her grip and Chat increased the pressure again, bruising her arms but she would not let go.

The pink flared with light and Chat actually sagged as if whatever Hawk Moth was doing, took all of his strength. It was all she needed. Wriggling out, she slid her hand over his whole arm, the rubber band slipping over his hand easily. She put as much distance between as she could with one kick.

“ ** _No!_** ”

The desperation in that shout stilled her as she prepared to rip the accessory to shreds, wanting to reduce this thing that had twisted him to smithereens. But she made the monumental mistake to look at Chat’s face.

Gone was the anger and the superiority, the banter and threatening aura. In its wake stood a boy about to break.

“Please,” he pleaded pitifully, crumpling to his knees, shaking as if he were caught in a blizzard, “Please, don’t destroy it. Please, don’t take it away. I’ll do anything, just please,” he wailed, tears now spilling forth as easily as his sob-wrecked begging “Don’t make me go back.”

He was outright crying now and Marinette remained frozen, torn between returning her partner to normal and suddenly realizing that once the Akuma was purged, her friend’s problems might be far from over.

Chat was always expressive and open. It had never occurred to her that the life he led outside of patrols, fights with villains and their friendly banter could be anything but enjoyable. He had never given her an indication that there might be something fundamentally wrong with it.

His mask had fooled her pretty good.

She wanted to hug him, hold him close, give him the security and comfort that he obviously needed, that he had craved enough to let Hawk Moth coerce him into cooperation him.

She wanted to help him, to make sure that whatever was tormenting him would be banished from his life.

Darkness bubbled around his ankles, revealing white sneakers, the pink halo returning and painting a horrified expression on Chat’s face. Ladybug knew that Hawk Moth was now threatening to take Chat’s powers away and she saved him the indecision and herself the pain of knowing which side he might choose.

“Sorry, Chat.”

And she ripped the rubber band in two.

Chat sat on his haunches, looking as if his world had ended while she trapped the tiny butterfly in her yo-yo and cleansing it silently, unable to send it off as cheerily as she usually did. Throwing her weapon into the air, her powers swept over her immediate surroundings and over the city, the obstructing cocoon vanishing, giving way to a bright, blue sky behind a now repaired steel grid.

She turned as a hazy purple layer lifted from her partner and picked up the inconspicuous electric-blue rubber band lying on the platform.

Her partner would be disoriented, she knew, probably not remembering what he had done. The urge to turn around and console him was physically painful to repress.

The prolonged silence was not broken by questions but by a strangled sob.

“I’m sorry.”

She startled, almost facing him but refraining: “Do you remember?”

The sobs grew louder and laboured: “No, but me being here without my ring and you being here on top of the Eiffel Tower is all I need to know.”

The beep of her earring alarmed them to the little they had left and Ladybug had never hated it more than now.

A back blur zoomed past her ear at lightning speed. She and Chat gave cries of surprise, her having turned around on instinct but a flash of green blinding her momentarily. Blinking her eyes open, she was surprised to see her partner in full attire, a look of bewilderment on his face as he stared at his hand where a familiar black ring sat on his finger, a green paw shining brilliantly.

It must have been his kwami, she finally realized.

“Plagg?”, Chat breathed quietly but crying still and the flow of tears increasing. His eyes shone with gratitude, disbelief, relief but it was smothered under guilt and self-reproach. He cradled his hand to his chest like a wounded animal.

“I’m so sorry, so, so sorry, please forgive me, I’m so sorry…”

It was a terrible chant.

Ignoring the beeping and her initial reservations, she went over to her hunched friend and embraced him. He went rigid under her touch and to her great relief finally stopped his frenzied apologies.

She felt the fabric of her suit growing damp on her right shoulder.

“Shhh.”, she soothed, running a hand over his messy mop of blond hair but he seemed reluctant to let her comfort him, unwilling to reciprocate the embrace.

“You should go.”, he rasped, driving her to instead hug him closer, “Your miraculous…”

“You know,” she cut him off gently, stunning him into silence, “I think I just decided that your wellbeing might be more important than my secret.”

She did not think it physically possible for a human to cry any harder than he did at that moment, suddenly flinging his arms around her and holding onto her as though she was his lifeline.

She could feel tears gather in the corner of her own eyes, his distress too raw to bear.

The final beep rang out and her suit vanished. Chat froze in her arms like a startled kitten and she continued to stroke his locks in her civilian form. From the corner of her eyes she could see Tikky settling on her other shoulder, her eyes filled with compassion and sadness.

Marinette found it strange that no one had come up here yet, but maybe people assumed that there could not possibly be anyone left on the top-most platform. Wind swept past them lazily and under the burning mid-day sun her partner wept his heart out. She could feel her phone buzzing in her pocket a few times, panicked calls from friends and classmates surely, but she ignored her need to know whether they were fine and whether Adrien had been found in order to provide all the comfort Chat needed.

It took some time, her legs having gone numb from her sitting on them for too long, but finally her friend managed to breathe normally again and his sobs subsided. He had yet to lift his head and Marinette could not help but admire him for being respectful of her old wishes even while such a mess himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His hands fisted into her jacket, his knuckles cracking.

“I’m going to lose everything I have worked so hard for and there is nothing I can do to avoid it.”

He did not start crying again but he began to shake anew.

“How come?”, she asked kindly, rubbing small circles on his back. He felt almost feverish under her touch but her partner had always been a furnace.

The answer took its time to travel from his brain to his mouth.

“My… parent decided that I am not meeting their expectations anymore.”, defeat was evident in his voice, “He has decided that I am to stay at home at all times just like before but…”

He choked, and Marinette’s heart bled as he took shaky breaths.

“I can’t.” he confessed, voice hoarse from crying and pain, “I don’t want to lose all the friends I’ve made. I don’t want to return to a cold and empty house full of people just there to keep me in line.”

“I don’t want to give up on being Chat Noir.”, he finished with a self-depreciating laugh, his mind on the events that had led to this very moment.

It sounded as awful as it probably was for her friend.

“I was fighting so hard to keep myself in check. I knew he would target me.”

The guilt was tearing him apart.

“But when he told me that there was a way to escape it all, when he made it clear that even as Chat I would not be able to outrun my father’s influence… the only thing I could do was rip the ring off my finger and tell Plagg to run.”

He held her close, seemingly hoping that through touch alone he could communicate everything he wanted to tell her, to make her understand all of these emotions that tormented him.

“I’m sorry I let you down, both you and Plagg. I’m a terrible partner.”

“No, you aren’t.”, she told him, her voice loud, clear and commanding. She felt the leather ears perk one the side of her head.

“Even while possessed, you remained kind.”

She had had a glimpse at the classroom, flooded with light when the schoolhouse had been dim and dark. She remembered her friends saying he had not hurt them, despite keeping them inside. She had not forgotten about his gentle hold on her hands or his initial self-restriction to touch her in a ruthless fashion.

“It must have been lonely. You have nobody to talk to, am I right?”

He shook his head, effectively burying his nose in the crook of her neck, warm but ragged breaths ghosting over her skin. It did not bother her as much as it might have on any other day. A lot of things were going to inevitably change from today onwards.

She regretted having kept their identities secret. She had thought it to be for the best, to make it easier to protect themselves and their loved ones. In the end it had only led to pain and the very thing she had so feared.

They would need to talk about Hawk Moth as well, since now he knew about Chat’s identity. How much they were at risk right now, she did not know but she did not want to weigh him done even more. His heart was already heavy enough with shame and sadness.

She cast Tikky a questioning look, silently asking her for advice. Was it too risky to reveal herself? Would it help prevent such incidents? A reassurance that should something similar happening again, they both could seek out the other for support?

Old eyes glanced back at her, yet they held no answer. It was a decision she would have to make on her own and to bear the consequences of it.

“Chat,” she said quietly, catching his attention, “what if … what if you just lifted your head?”

He went rigid, to the point Marinette was afraid that he had suddenly turned to stone.

She frowned.

“No.”, he hushed, burying his head deeper into her shoulder. Marinette would have never expected that kind of answer but it did painfully make sense.

“If I know your identity and _this_ happens again, then Hawk Moth will have the both of us. We can’t risk it.”

His laugh was anything but jovial: “Here I have my Lady, willing to take off her mask and because I messed up, I won’t get a chance to appreciate the person behind it.”

She opted to quietly stroke his hair as he went on: “I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to remain a Miraculous wielder.”

He hands stilled. That thought had yet to occur to her and the realization how very possible this outcome was stole her breath away.

Tikky patted her cheek, making Marinette jerk, having forgotten that her kwami was still present. Chat tensed further under her but otherwise did not try to move, probably fearing he would catch a glimpse of her.

Tikky shook of the head, addressing Chat: “You needn’t worry. You, and only you, are the Chosen for taking up the role of Chat Noir. As long as _you_ do not reject that name, none but you can bear the name and duty of protecting Ladybug.”

The unfamiliar voice startled him bad but his face remained glued to her shoulder, not otherwise responding to the kwami’s words. She could only hope that he was not seriously considering it.

The buzzing from her pocket increased in frequency, telling her that now she was stretching the limits of Alya’s and possibly her parents’ patience.

“We will have to go soon, people are looking for us.”, she said slowly as she gently untangled from their embrace. As she gingerly stood on wobbly legs, prickling with pins and needles, she saw Chat closing his eyes, head turned sideways.

He looked miserable and lost but there was no time, unless she wanted her best friend to turn to the authorities. She also needed to check on Adrien.

“Do you” he began and swallowed before going on, “do you need help getting off the tower?”

A smile graced her features as she squeezed his shoulder.

“I’ll be alright, kitty. There’s this nifty invention they call elevator and if that does not work there’s always the stairs.”

It coaxed a twitch of his mouth out of him but not much more.

“We will find a solution to this.”, she told him reassuringly and with a bit of persuasion, if not for him then for herself, “I will see you around.”

She did not dare formulate it as a question, a small part of her still terrified at the idea that he might take this as an incentive to disappear for good.

She waited, as he sat there, worrying his lips until finally his quiet affirmation washed some of the worry away.

In a bout of affection and sympathy, she leaned down and planted a quick kiss on the crown of his head, slipping the rubber band into his open palm, a stifled gasp coming out of him before she turned to take the stairs.

Going down with the elevator would attract too much attention, she concluded. Opening her purse while minding every step she took, she briefly stopped to watch Chat Noir’s form retreat into the distance as he sprang from the tower.

She felt immensely bad for having kept from him the fact that she now knew without a doubt that he was from her school as well as not actually having concrete solutions to his civil life problem.

Securing her purse and checking that Tikky’s supply of cookies was still intact, the kwami already nibbling on the edge of a treat, she grabbed her phone and checked all the messages that had come in during their time on top of the tower.

Mostly, frantic texts from Alya asking where she was and whether she was alright, others depicting their rescue by Ladybug and few worrying ones about Adrien still missing - not even his secretary knowing where he had disappeared to.

Marinette’s stomach twisted into a hard knot. She briefly bemoaned the fact that she had missed the chance to ask Chat but remembered that it would not have made a difference since he did not remember anything that had happened at school. He would not know where to look for their friend.

As she reached the final steps another message arrived, informing her that Adrien had been found.

A sigh untangled her insides and made her chest lighter.

Apparently he had been stuck in the locker room, unable to leave. On a side note, Alya mentioned that after all the commotion, school had been cancelled for the rest of the day, many of the students and teachers too upset to work effectively anymore.

She texted Alya back immediately, once she was on firm ground and making sure that none of the police men were looking her way or paying a misplaced single student too much attention. Most of them were still dazed by the events to pay much attention to her anyway.

Upon her return home, she was greeted by her parents and her best friend all of them demanding to know where she had been. It seemed that the excuse of her having roamed the streets in hopes of finding Ladybug was deemed reasonable.

When Alya’s phone chimed while she and Marinette sat at a table in the bakery, the latter could not help but notice the frown on her best friend’s face.

“What is it?”

Alya gave her a conflicted glance before sighing: “Nino’s worried about Adrien, is all.”

She had hastened her speech, maybe hoping that Marinette would not catch on but she underestimated her ability to focus on minor details when it came to her crush.

“But I thought you said he was alright!”, she really did not want to make it sound accusing but with everything she had been through today it was somewhat difficult to keep her emotions in check.

Alya gave her a look between understanding and vindicative.

“I haven’t seen him to be honest, I was only relaying the first message Nino sent me.”

She seemed to consider her next words carefully.

“He just wrote that Adrien was being awfully quiet. He’s probably spooked from having been trapped in a dark room the whole time.”

He face scrunched up in what Marinette recognized to be her “journalist” expression, the one where she would discuss theories and findings until Marinette’s ears had already fallen off and run over the hills.

“That Fileur guy was really strange you know.”

Marinette felt her limbs go stiff with shock. She should have expected this, but she was not yet ready to have this talk. Not so shortly after having seen her partner dissolved into tears.

But she had to play along if she did not want Alya to get suspicious.

“Oooh, really?”, her voice sounded strangled, like a poor trapped animal and she was glad Alya was too absorbed to notice.

The dark-skinned girl nodded.

“He wouldn’t stop talking about how we could all just stay at school with him. That no one had to be all alone anymore…”

She stopped there and her grey eyes held a disquieted gloom that Marinette had seldom seen there: “He actually sounded really lonely.”

Marinette did not trust her voice, prompting her to nod.

“I wonder who it could have been?”, she mumbled to herself before turning back to Marinette, “You got any ideas?”

Marinette shook her head no and was relieved when Alya dropped the subject once it became clear that she, who had been absent, could not provide more insight on the matter, even though the enthusiastic blogger could not have been more wrong.

* * *

 

The quiet of the night and exhaustion did not bring her the sleep she wished would take her worries from her shoulders for a while. Beside her Tikky lay on the pillow wide awake and watching her attentively as she tossed and turned.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, the red kwami asked tentatively.

They had opted to not mentioning today’s events over the course of the evening but the doubts and nagging thoughts remained nonetheless, keeping her from sleeping.

Marinette turned her head, looking at her friend intently.

“I just want to make sure he is alright.”, she whispered into the darkness, “He was so shaken up and… I want to make up to him.”

She felt at fault too. They were supposed to support one another, yet she had relied too much on his goofiness and as she had now to accept, thick-layered and exaggerated humor, his independence and confidence which were actually as fragile as glass.

Though she had done so before, she now wondered with more seriousness about the boy behind the mask of Chat Noir. She had always pictured a boy with the same unruly hair, a flirtatious smirk on his lips at the ready and surrounded by his friends who would laugh at his jokes and look up to him for being the cool kid with the fast quips and big mouth. A boy who was trying to woo the girls with smart (?) remarks. A joker and jester who laughed the loudest. An open book. A kind and supportive soul with a touch of clumsiness. A brave kid who was in over his head, doing break-neck stunts at the park with his friends.

What she had seen today did not align at all with that mental image she had crafted.

The Chat she had witnessed today was afraid. The Chat she had seen was lonely, cherishing the few people close to him. The Chat that had been revealed to her today was not free, tied to a leash of responsibilities or restrictions imposed on him. The Chat she discovered was terrified of being left behind. The Chat she had consoled today was starving for love and attention.

It shattered everything she had thought she knew about her partner.

How she wished that her cleansing light could have made disappear whatever had loomed over her partner’s head. It made her want to make sure he was not agonizing over his akumatization, to make sure he would not disappear into the night to be gone forever. She could not face Hawk Moth on her own.

Tikky shook her head as Marinette looked at her glowing eyes.

“Give him time. I am sure that Plagg is making sure he is not endangering himself or doing something rash.”, she sounded almost amused, picking Marinette’s interest.

“Plagg is Chat’s kwami, isn’t he?” That sort of made him Tikky’s partner she mused.

“He is indeed.”, she said fondly, “Loves mischief as much as cheese, but in the end he will be there for his miraculous.”

Although she should feel reassured by those words, Marinette could not put her heart at ease, beating inside her ribcage like a restless bird.

The tip of one of Tikky’s limbs stroked at her cheek gently: “Just try to sleep.”

* * *

 

Next morning came yet again with sunshine and cloudless skies but Marinette had to wrestle herself out of bed anyway, sleep having been elusive into the early hours of the night. Exhaustion had dragged her under and still held her firmly in its clutches as she descended into the kitchen and bit into a freshly baked croissant. Not even the tea her mother brewed, a mix of mint and lemon grass, could wake her completely.

The dreams she had had were mere snippets but had been unsettling and dark, although she could not remember them clearly. She was not even sure if they had even made sense.

It had taken most of her self-control to keep from contacting Chat, just to make sure, just to know and to be there if needed.

Alya was upon her the instant she saw her slightly ashen complexion and tired eyes. Telling her that she had had a rough night was not even a lie. Alya gave her an incredulous expression, somewhere between amused and offended.

“It’s funny how you are having nightmares when you haven’t even been trapped in a school turned into a spooky haunted manor.”

She chuckled at that, scratching at her cheek sheepishly for good measure.

“Are you alright, Alya?”

Her friend gave her a wink: “I might have spent a good portion of yesterday mulling over what happened but it could have been worse.”

Marinette blinked up at her in confusion.

“You remember when Mylene got turned into that gooey monster, trapping everyone in the basement in cocoons? Would be kind of difficult, since you were in one of them.”

She threw her an accusing look.

“You never told me what that was like, you know?”

Marinette nodded a bit too quickly, chuckling: “Not very comfortable.”

It was lame, but what could she say when she had never seen the inside of one of those capsules?

Alya bought it anyway and held the door open as they entered the classroom. There were some students already sat at their desks, chattering amongst themselves but generally looking in good spirits, the incident seemingly not having left too bad of an impression on them. It made her heart a little lighter.

When her eyes fell on Adrien’s empty seat, worry gnawed at her.

Bless Alya for her quick thinking.

“Hey, don’t make that face. The bell has not rung yet, so he might be running a little late.”

She turned to Nino, who looked up from his phone when they approached they friend. He gave them a smile, surely having heard and deduced what they were talking about. Being Alya’s best friend he had adopted a bit of her enthusiasm for teasing Marinette about her crush but had never betrayed her trust by telling Adrien. For that alone Marinette could never be thankful enough.

“No worries.”, he assured “He hasn’t texted me that he would be absent, so he’ll be here in a short while.”

His hopeful tone made her at ease and with that in mind she sat down, beginning to listen to Alya discussing her ideas for making navigation on the Ladyblog easier and neat.

She was just about to explain how she was struggling with changing the settings for redirecting people to other sites when the door opened and Adrien entered.

Any ounce of happy Marinette had managed to scrap together today evaporated when she looked at him. Yesterday she had thought he appeared downtrodden. Today he had to be beyond miserable.

He had, admittedly, done an amazing job at covering it up. His hair was as impeccable as always but his locks covered a bit more of his face, like a protective curtain to shield his eyes that were slightly bloodshot. His skin looked fresh and healthy but Marinette realized it was all make-up when she caught sight of a slightly darker spot close to his ear, testament that he had not properly smudged it there.

The most telling feature though was the glum air that clung to him. It was not heavy but it was noticeable, very different from his usual composed and content demeanour.

Nino’s and Alya’s expression were as shocked as she felt. Wordlessly, the blond sat himself beside his best friend, brushing off any try at conversation with a simple shake of his head. Something must have happened at home, for he only acted that way when his family was concerned, Marinette knew.

Or was it due to yesterday? He had, after all, spent a great amount of time all alone in a dreary sealed-off room. She would also be shaken by something like that.

She was shaken still.

Her staring had her losing her grip on the pencil she had been doodling with absentmindedly, its clatter loud and clear as it bounced past her desk and towards her crush. Despite her best attempts at catching it, Adrien picked it up right before her nose, the shadow of a smile gracing his lips as he handed it back to her.

“Here you go.”, he said quietly, his voice throaty but smooth, putting the object in her slack palm.

Marinette wished she could have given him a reply but any and all thought-process had stilled.

An electrifying, blue rubber band circled his wrist, mocking her.


	2. The Beginning

For years now, Adrien had persuaded himself that his father still cared. He had become efficient in lying to himself, trying to interpret into any of his parent’s questionable actions something that related to the man that had loved him deeply before his mother had left their lives.

The well planned day he saw as his father’s way of being sure to know where he was and to know him safe.

The home-schooling he understood as a way of his father to compensate for the struggles he had been put through.

The many lessons he had to take were a show of his father that he wanted only the best opportunities for Adrien’s future.

The photoshoots and modelling Adrien saw as a chance to show his appreciation towards his father’s work and as a way to connect with him.

It had meant little freedom and no friends. During the first years, Adrien had accepted it willingly, because even if Gabriel Agreste was afraid of losing family, his son was even more so.

Adrien knew for a fact that his father had loved his mother more than anyone in the world. Old photos Adrien had snatched and kept in an album in his room were testimony to that. He had guessed that it had been a given to his father that these same feelings were returned with just as much intensity.

So when one day, she had left their two-story house waving them goodbye as she went to work and never returned, something inside his father must have broken. The first few weeks had been catastrophic: calls with friends, with co-workers, with the police. None held the answer to where Sophie Agreste had disappeared to on that day in March. No notes, no words left behind - just a broken family with a desperately searching husband and his overwhelmed son.

Adrien had seen his father at his rawest in those days and at his weakest when all they could do, was file a missing person’s report, one active to this day still.

Once it became clear that they were on their own and the first bills came in his father could not pay with his own salary, there had been a definite change. He threw himself into his work with such fervency it had actually scared Adrien. He had known about his father’s dream to become a designer, had known he had been working towards it for years, Sophie at his side to help him with organizing and making connections through her work at a renowned fashion magazine. Gabriel picked up where she had left off – with success.

Adrien had just turned nine when his mother had disappeared. With ten, he had been unpacking moving boxes containing his belongings and putting them into shelves in a room as big as the entire first floor of their prior dwelling.

Adrien always remembered that transitional year with a mixture of sadness and apprehension. It had been lonely, with his father often away or cooped up in his workshop into the early hours of the night, coping with a loss he had not been ready for. Gabriel had tried hard and failed at being both a good, providing parent and a responsible worker, although Adrien neither faulted him nor questioned whether his father was aware of it. He did hurt about the fact that when it came to his own sadness over their loss, he had been expected to carry it with as much dignity as his father.

He had needed to shove all those doubts, fears and insecurities deep down, if only to ensure that his father would stay or not push him away because he was being a nuisance.

Gabriel had been unable to properly manage the household on his own, unknowingly relying on Adrien who had taught himself the basics of cooking pasta and pizza and made an effort at sweeping the house at least twice a week, copying his mother whom he had so often watched doing it.

The house still grew dusty, the meals were barely acknowledged by Gabriel but at least they had found a routine they could work around. Adrien had seldom felt as lonely as he had in those months but he endured because he knew his father was struggling, because there was no one they could rely on. Sophie and Gabriel both had had fall-outs with their families long before Adrien had even been born and he had been aware of it.

School though turned into a disaster both socially and academically. When trying to take over the chores his mother had mostly done previously, it left little to no time for his studies. The children from school lost interest in him as a friend once the initial pity and curiosity had vanished and he was more preoccupied with mundane tasks like thinking about which clothes needed to be washed at 40 degrees and which not, instead of scheming the next prank on the girls with the other boys.

It was amusing how, back then, he had craved some alone time and now dreaded it.

Then came the time when both heating and electricity had been shut off because most of the little money Gabriel earned went to the rent and pre-cooked dishes. An old camping cooker became Adrien’s best friend in the kitchen.

Although it was much too expensive they remained in that house. Adrien figured in hopes should his mother ever return.

Then, after so many deprivations, his father had his breakthrough at the _Paris Fashion Week_. Like a shooting star, Gabriel Agreste rose to become one of the most demanded fashion designers in France and, in years to follow, in the world.

Their lives changed drastically once more, having left Adrien dizzied at the prospect of not having to do chores anymore, to have a good meal once again and not to freeze his behind off during another cold night.

He had been naïve enough to assume his father would now be able to spend time with him and to soothe the ache that had settled deep in the pit of Adrien’s stomach, having made itself at home there.

It turned out that with his father now in high demand, Gabriel himself admitted that he could not allow himself to cut back his work time.

Adrien had accepted it, remembering the year they had had and definitely not wanting to return to that particular situation. He just wished his father had shown a bit more sympathy, made more of an effort to accommodate to his need for affirmation that they still were family, despite all the struggles and hours they had spent separated under the same roof.

The home-schooling came as a surprise but had been long decided by his father before he had even informed his son. It had been a long conversation, the longest they had had since his mother’s disappearance. His father had still been achingly distant but he had apologized to him for having made his life as difficult as it had been. Adrien remembered crying, for those words were as much of an admission that his efforts had been acknowledged as a hug would have been.

The private tutoring had allowed him to catch up on all he had been unable to do properly and the quiet did him some good. It was only later that he understood that his father had also kept him from having to face nosy reporters and intrusive people.

Chloé Bourgeois became his first friend during that time. She had been brought over to dinner by her father with whom Gabriel had become acquainted through many official events.

She was never his best friend, but a friend nonetheless and one that could to some extent connect to his situation. Though none of her family were missing and she never had to face the troubles the Agreste’s had been through, her parents had divorced and as such she understood what the absence of a mother meant.

Chloé was a lot of things Adrien was not: confident to the point of cocky, exuberant and eccentric, passionate, self-absorbed and insouciant.

Though not all of those qualities were worth emulating, he still did like the attention he got at first, only coming to dislike it when Chloé’s childish interest turned into something more territorial and irksome. He never encouraged her but also never pushed her away.

She was the only friend he had after all.

Life in luxury had its perks and once the modelling came into play there was a bit of a relief from the monotonous everyday routine but it did not cancel out the void left behind by a lack of friends and the growing absence of his father.

Gabriel had become even more distant; a circumstance that was not helped by Nathalie’s presence. Adrien liked her, appreciated her efforts at being effective but in those first months, he had felt betrayed, like she was the reason his father now had more of an excuse to absent himself from his life since another adult would be there to watch over his son.

She also tried to always remain respectfully distant, their relationship more akin to co-workers than anything else.

Adrien had concluded that if he wanted his father’s attention, he should do it the right way, showing him that he was capable, independent as well as reliable. He excelled in his studies and took on Chinese and fencing the moment his father proposed the idea.

It turned into a cruel game, one he had not understood the rules of properly because it seemed like he never could win his father’s attention. Adrien remembered many nights spent in his room, wondering what he was doing wrong, what else he had missed to do, what other skills he had to refine first before Gabriel would just hug him like he used to before that fateful day in March.

Adrien’s eleventh birthday became a turning-point in their relationship.

Adrien’s birthdays had always been simple, small celebrations with the two people he had cherished the most and maybe the toy he had been begging for for months.

When Sophie disappeared, Adrien’s tenth birthday had been overshadowed by her absence and their utter lack of money, but at least his father had scrapped enough together to get them a small, nice cake and a comic - the one copy Adrien still kept and often browsed through on occasion, its pages now yellowed from age and use.

But the second birthday marking the absence of his mother was the first one his father missed. He still had called from Italy, wishing him many happy returns but the empty dining hall remained just as cold even after their exchange over the telephone.

On his thirteenth birthday Adrien had mused, with a good amount of sarcasm and melancholy, when this day had become nothing but a mere entry in his father’s diary.

Adrien did his best at not accusing his father or calling him out on his behaviour. It was not his place and he figured that he still needed time and support no matter in which way he, Adrien, could provide it as a good son.

After three years of having known each other, Chloé came to him, complaining that now that her father was mayor he had actually demanded that she go to a Collége so she could socialize and at the same time find out what the young generation was interested in.

Adrien, after having lived in a golden cage for such a long time with no reward, saw his first chance of regaining some semblance of normalcy.

When he had first approached his father, he had picked a week where he knew Gabriel would not be too busy and as such not as dismissive as usual.

His father had been perplexed first and opposed second but Adrien defended his position as reasonably as possible.

Gabriel had been unhappy but had complied the moment Adrien admitted that the only friend he had would not be able to see him anymore.

Despite being cold, Gabriel Agreste was sensible enough to know that a total absence of peers would only be detrimental to his only son’s health. He had laid out many conditions, ranging from the amount of time Adrien was allowed to spend away from home, to his duties as a presentable son, to the rule that no one was to be brought over under any circumstance.

Adrien readily agreed to all of them, anything to have a bit of freedom back.

Collége turned out to be much more different than expected and showed Adrien that despite his best efforts at appearing normal, he definitely was not.

It was ironic how just four short years had sufficed to rob him of any kind of intuition and social awareness any normal teenager should have. He was utterly lost when it came to popular shows, could not tell that there were certain groups of people one could, might or should not identify with, was left puzzled as to why girls would look at him start-struck and many of the boys give him a death glare.

Chloé had been his crutch, although it was obvious that her behaviour definitely deviated from what considered ordinary.

Nino was a godsend.

He was easy-going, funny, open and did not give a hoot about etiquette. Being around him was simple and Adrien could not have escaped their friendship even if he had run at full speed. Nino just was one of those people that drew you in and kept you, for better or for worse.

It was through him that Adrien got to know most of his classmates, Nino easily taking over the parts where Adrien’s lack of social know-how failed him.

Meeting Plagg, he took on the identity of Chat Noir, protector of Paris and the polka-dotted heroine by the name of Ladybug.

Adrien had never been in love, had not even crushed on anyone before, but the first time he laid eyes on her, he knew he had fallen hard and fast.

As Chat he finally got the freedom he had craved for so long. As Ladybug’s partner, he could finally feel what it meant to be appreciated for what he was and what he was doing. Sometimes he overdid it with his flirting and posing, more than once he messed up when fighting an Akuma but in the end she would always be there, fist outstretched, smiling and joking with him, making him feel loved and needed.

He knew that she might never return his feelings but he could accept it, if he could just bask in this contempt after a successful mission for the rest of his life.

The ache in his gut which he had so grown accustomed to over the years finally alleviated.

Balancing school, work and his duties as a superhero had been taxing and difficult but Adrien had been convinced he was doing a good job. For once, he felt that his life was going the way it was meant to be.

That was, until, he was unexpectedly summoned by his father.

Ever since having entered the Collége, the rift between them had grown even further. This might have upset Adrien more, had there not been his friends and now a kwami to distract him from it. As it was, he had accepted it with a sort of resigned emptiness in his chest. A distant ache he could ignore and shove away thanks to the presence of Plagg, Nino and his supportive classmates.

The office was as impeccable as the suit his father was wearing, a slip of an overhung sky visible from the enormous window behind the desk. His father’s face was grim as Adrien tried to get comfortable in a chair that was big enough to swallow him with its cushion.

Although his father was not known for his smiles, Adrien could tell that his expression promised bad news.

“I am disappointed with your recent performances.”

No welcome, no questions about his day or his wellbeing. Clean and down to the point. His father had always been this way but that knowledge did not lessen the blow to Adrien’s ego.

Looking up at his father from under his bangs, Adrien worried his bottom-lip discreetly.

Before he could ask his father what was wrong, Gabriel cut to the problem immediately.

“Your report card for this trimester has been poor compared to your usual performance.”

Adrien swallowed, both because his mouth had gone dry and also because there were bitter words trying to crawl up his throat he did not want to speak to his father’s face.

Adrien knew the results by heart. All in all he had scored a total of 18/20 points. Any parent would have been proud of such an achievement. Instead, Gabriel Agreste lamented the fact that instead of a nine there was now an eight following the one.

“I am still adapting.”, he evaded, apprehensive and not wishing to upset his father when he was already in such a foul mood, “I promise to do better in the future.”

His father’s eyes narrowed minimally but Adrien knew that it was as bad as other people shouting at the top of their lungs.

“I am not only speaking about your academics.”, he added pointedly, now turning fully to Adrien, computer and mails forgotten, “My employees have reported repeatedly that you showed up late for appointments in some cases even failed to appear at all.”

Adrien could feel the colour draining from his face. It had been one of his father’s conditions, one he had tried to uphold but had become increasingly difficult with attacks becoming more frequent.

His father leaned back in his chair, ready to attend to his work again.

“You will finish the last trimester at Collége Dupont and will be privately tutored once the next school year starts. Dismissed.”

It was so casual. His father was so easily taking it all away, as tough it did not matter, as though it was unimportant. In the grand scheme of things it was to him.

Adrien’s fingers had curled into white-knuckled fists as he sat there in shock.

“I…”

Words failed him, as his father threw him a forbearing yet impatient glance.

“All I ask, is a second chance.”, he did not want to beg, his father never liked begging, but it was all Adrien had left.

His father’s lips pursed with discontent.

“We had an agreement and you failed to uphold your part. It is evident that you will do better in a more sedated environment.”

He cast him a look that was impossible to decipher: “I am doing this for your own good.”

And he turned away.

Emotions were roiling inside Adriens gut and bubbling just beneath his skin. Emotions so strong and powerful it left his head swimming. Emotions he had suppressed for years. Emotions he had ignored. Emotions he had not been aware he harboured.

How dare he? How could his father have the audacity to accuse him of not upholding an agreement when he hadn’t done so for years? How dare he act like he was being indulgent with a child when for years it had been Adrien who had felt that way towards him? How dare he decide what Adrien was to do and not to do? How dare he act like his son’s emotions were inconsequential?

How dare he pretend he cared?

Adrien had never felt as hollow and as hopeless as in that moment. It eclipsed the day after his mother had disappeared and the years he had spent running after his father for approval.

He had endured without complaint and his reward would be shackles.

And the worst of it? He knew that he could not escape, for as much as he wished to flee and leave this life behind, there was one person he could not abandon.

He left the office without another word, shock numbing him to the core while the emotions still burned searing trails through his veins.

He shut the door to his room quietly and lay down in his bed without another word, drawing the covers tightly over his head as Plagg pestered him with questions, for the first time sounding genuinely concerned.

It was his luck there was no attack on that day. He was not sure he could have faced his Lady in the state he was in. Controlling his inner turmoil was the most difficult task he had ever faced but he would rather die before becoming an Akuma.

The quiet helped him compose himself. Plagg’s silent vigil by his side also was a reassurance.

He barely slept that night and when he went to school his heart felt like a boulder in his chest.

He might have pulled through, might have managed to keep his emotions in check if it weren’t for Nino’s abysmal timing.

He was somewhat surprised when during lunch break, he had to squint at a trinket that the dark-skinned was shoving under his nose.

He took it with a questioning glance, recognizing it as one of those rubber bands Nino liked to decorate himself with.

“What’s that for?”, he had asked jokingly, examining it, hoping to find something printed o it but it was bare of any writings or symbols.

Nino nudged him into the shoulder with a grin: “Just a little something to let you know it’s been a year since we’ve become friends! Thought, it might cheer you up!”

Any other day, under any other circumstance it would have.

Today it did nothing but make the emotions surge up again with a force that had Adrien almost gasping for breath.

He was going to lose this. His friends would disappear from his life, slowly and steadily. Bonds only prevailed so long with a lack of closeness. He had learned that the hard way now.

Something must have shown on his face, he would have been to be inhuman for some of what he was feeling not to show, because suddenly Nino’s smile slipped off his face to be replaced with a worried frown.

Adrien quickly covered it by thumping his best friend on the back so hard that the latter almost toppled out of his chair.

“That’s absolutely great! Thanks, Nino. I’ll be sure to cherish it! I just need to use the restroom quickly! Be right back!”, it was one jumbled torrent of words he pressed out as quickly as he could before the sobs could come out first. He ran for the locker room as fast as his legs could carry him, slamming the door shut and leaning against it, his knees no longer able to keep him upright.

He outright sobbed. There was no holding back. If only he had the power necessary to keep it all. If only he wasn’t this weak, this useless, this pathetic… He would not have lost his father.

If only he had been more careful.

He did not think he could be alone again. He did not trust himself to be on his own again.

Plagg despite his aloofness and questionable morals was still trying to comfort him but Adrien was beyond reasoning.

He would lose this too. Plagg would have to leave him in the end. Chat Noir would be no good to anyone, if he could not come to the rescue.

Ladybug would be disappointed to see him abandon his duties. He would never see her smile again at him, with that playful expression and an outstretched hand for him to hold onto when fell.

Tearstained face covered by his hands, one of them still holding onto Nino’s present, a dark butterfly found its way to him.


	3. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is filled with stuff which will need some explaining to non-French readers. You can find them at the end of the chapter while being marked with * in the text.   
> This work is getting longer the more time I invest writing it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

Nino liked to believe that he had come to know Adrien well over the course of the year they had spent together.

Truth be told, Adrien had not been the only in dear need of a friend.

Although not as sheltered and shy as the blond model, Nino’s family had moved from Reunion Island to France only half a year before he met his to-be-best-friend.

The change had been enormous and it had taken Nino and his family some time to adapt to the new climate and to the overall atmosphere of the city. What he missed most was to have the expanse of the ocean just at his front door. Paris could not provide it like Saint-Denis, the Seine the only water-body in the vicinity and there was no way it could be compare to the wind-tousled sea.

His father’s work for _Radio Ô_ had been appreciated and his talent as DJ recognized, prompting a promotion from _France Radio_ and even in times of internet and Skype it required him to work at their headquarters in Paris: an offer his father could not possibly refuse. His mother had been ecstatic, his father even more so but Nino and his two sisters had not really known how to feel. They liked Reunion Island, they all did, but Nino’s older sister especially loved the countryside and it was something she was going to lose. Nino for his part was looking forward to the change and dreading it.

It meant abandoning what he had grown fond of over the years, leaving the friends behind with whom he hung out and made music with at every chance he got and never again swimming among the waves of the Indian Sea. It also meant he was going to live in one of the liveliest cities in the world.

When everything was ready, their most treasured belongings packed inside boxes that would be transported by ship, they took the plane for _Charles De Gaulle Airport_.

The first month they spent in a flat with the bare necessities to live until the movers arrived and they finally managed to turn the place into a welcoming home.

Paris was awesome. His sisters wouldn’t stop chattering about the opportunities for shopping and passing the time in galleries and museums. His father soon had mapped out the greatest music stores with him and his mother passed a good amount of time relaying to their friends and family how they eased into their new lives.

The kids at Collège Françoise Dupont were totally cool with him dropping into their midst after winter break and accepted him easily. With his outgoing personality and awesome stories to tell about Reunion, his first weeks had been spent answering various questions and getting attention from all sides.

The fact remained though, that despite the nice welcome, there had not been anyone to truly connect with. Most of the kids in class had known each other since nursery school, only exception being Chloé Bourgeois, but she was not one of the people Nino had any reason to get chummy with.

If anything, the blonde just managed to get him angry whenever she made a stupid, offhanded comment about his hometown, some of which bordered dangerously on racist.

Marinette was the one to give him a package with an assortment of pastries in welcome at his second day of school, introducing him to the goodness that is banana rolls.

Alya had been going on about her blog for the school, something she took great pride in. She also never stopped complaining about the current manager of the school radio station being dreadful at finding music that was both harmonious and popular. Nino had to agree, the guy doing his job half-heartedly and focusing mostly on indie-pop and rock, a cool genre in and off itself but one that should be enjoyed in small doses and not hours on end.  
He still had no idea how Alya had finally roped him into applying for the job when the opportunity presented itself. He only remembered that after a party the class had had with him mixing the songs, they had practically bullied him into taking over the post. Not that he was complaining – music was his passion – but he still found it disconcerting how easily he had found himself in that position.

He tried to form a new circle of friends, some people with whom he could talk about music, videogames and spend the afternoons with to have an excuse to procrastinate.

Max, with his neat clothes and detached demeanour was okay company but he mostly hung out with Kim (to the point it was telling, Alya had once whispered behind him, making him laugh). Kim was more brawls than brains and Nino did somewhat get aggravated at the constant stream of dares he spouted, most of which were pretty ridiculous.

Natahnaël and Ivan were both quiet in their own rights but with Ivan at least he could connect with whenever the bulky, dark-haired boy would enthusiastically talk about his favourite band. The red-head seldom spoke to him and had started giving him looks ever since Marinette had offered him food.

Being a brother to two sisters both younger and older than himself, he had no qualms spending his time with girls but Juleka and Rose were pretty much connected at the hip, Sabrina clung to Chloé and Mylène usually hovered near Ivan, meaning the two were off into their own little world (even if they had yet to notice).

So, somehow, he found himself gravitating back to the two people who had been the first to help him find his place in school. Alya was an enthusiastic ball full of unrestrained energy and ambition, balanced by a relaxed exterior she liked to display. Marinette, though not less ambitious than her friend, definitely was calmer and a bit of an air-head.

They were good company but Nino still felt that there was something missing. He wasn’t about to complain though. Still, he drew the line whenever the girls were straying to topics he would _not_ be involved in. He may have sisters, he may hang out with girls but he was not going to contribute to their discussions about boys. Yuck!

Summer break came far sooner than he had anticipated and marked the appearance of the yo-yo swinging heroine going by the name of Ladybug and her baton-wielding partner Chat Noir.

He was glad to say that it was not only a novelty to him but to all of the citizens. Magic was not a common thing in this day and age, yet people had always remained aware of its continued existence.   
It was the only thing to actually explain how a human could be turned into something like _Bridezilla_ , the first recorded akumatized person of Paris ever.

Alya’s enthusiasm, she had tried oh-so-hard to keep hidden from the world, knew no restraint and in less than twelve hours after the first attack, the red-head had her _Ladyblog_ operational and rapidly gaining followers. The consequence was that now Alya spent most of her time roaming Paris’ streets in hopes of catching another glimpse at the elusive heroes.

Although Nino found Ladybug and Chat Noir cool, he was not ready to walk around aimlessly for hours. If they happened to swing or jump by that would be awesome but he was not seeking them out.

Just as his time with Alya decreased, so did the time spent with Marinette who claimed that her parents’ bakery had grown incredibly busy and that her help was needed.

The summer had been rather lonely as a result and not even the time spent with his family or calling his old friends back at home could change that.

After weeks of boredom and hopeless tries at distracting himself, he returned to school, happy to see friendly faces. Alya was overwhelming them with the onslaught of information she heaped on him and her best friend who had almost run late.  
It had only been the start of Marinette’s new habit, both he and Alya somewhat surprised that her forgetfulness seemed to have doubled over the course the summer.

It was also the day that Chloé dragged a boy after her into class.

Nino remembered everyone breaking out into hushed whispers and whooping outcries.

It was only natural: Adrien Agreste had been a model for the better part of two years now, his face visible on many magazine covers and bill boards around the city. His had to be one of the most well-known in Paris besides ALEC’s and Nadja Chamack’s*.

They were followed by Mr. Damocles and Ms. Bustier who went to properly introduce their new classmate once the bell had rung, everyone was seated and Chloé had been extracted from her prey (much to her displeasure).

With the spot to Nino’s right the only one left open, Adrien slid into it quietly, giving him a friendly _‘Hello’_ before concentrating on the lesson.

Although Nino really wanted to lie, truth was that his first impression of Adrien had not been a good one.

Not only had he been led into class by one of the few people Nino considered obnoxiously selfish but he had been far too distant and polite. It had aggravated Nino to no end that whenever he would address the blond, his replies would be practical and forthcoming but they lacked authenticity. It felt like he was listening to someone reading out a script.

Still, he would have had to force himself not to like someone who at the very least was much kinder than the girl Adrien admitted being friends with.

Once the bell rung again, people were upon the poor guy, driven by the same curiosity and interest that had spurred them into interrogating Nino last year. He gave the boy a sympathetic chuckle and was utterly surprised by the grateful smile he received in return.

That one glimpse of what may hide underneath the surface was all incentive Nino needed to try and find out who Adrien Agreste truly was. Challenge accepted.

It had not been easy and Adrien surely had not made it easier: He was a neat-freak who always tried to be on time, whether because of his upbringing, personality or tight schedule, Nino had yet to find out.

Getting him to actually agree to hang out and stray from his usually busy plans had been a chore. It had also taken all of his courage to walk up to the window on the driver’s side and ask the man behind the wheel whether it would be alright to drive them to an arcade in the 11th arrondissement.

The staring contest had been unnerving but Nino knew he had won when those grey eyes flickered over to the side to glance at the blond awkwardly fiddling with the strap of his messenger bag.

It had been a hunch. Adrien had been extremely reserved and very selective about what he admitted to like and be interested in. Although never outright voicing that he enjoyed videogames Nino had seen that the image of his lock screen was a poster of Mecha Strike II.

The idea to spend the afternoon at the arcade turned out to be one of his best. It was dim and full of flashing lights. No one would be able to recognize the model with that kind of lighting and possibly bother him. Admittedly, the first minutes had been awkward, Nino trying his best to get the shy teenager to open up by letting him decide what to play first.

It turned out that Adrien was a sucker for games that either dealt with speed or fighting, although none of the games they tried out failed to make a smile spread on his face. Nino also found out that besides being one of the most considerate people he had ever met (he had lost count how often Adrien had willingly given his spot away to another kid or teenager waiting for their turn) he was also painfully self-conscious. Adrien’s smile slipped the moment he noticed it had settled on his face, looking guilty and ready to go to jail.

It had been alarming but Nino had tried not to make him even more uncomfortable by pointing it out.

In the end, Adrien had thanked him with an expression as if he expected this to be a one-time occurrence. The surprise on his face had been priceless when Nino came again the next day, and the day after that and after that, asking whether he had some free time that afternoon.

The more often Nino pushed and prodded, the more he was allowed to see and the bolder Adrien grew in his attempts to spend time with him.

Soon, Nino was privy to the knowledge of Adrien’s undying love for eastern entertainment. He had lost count how often they had skyped during the night streaming one anime or another which his friend had recently discovered. He was not much of a fan himself but he humoured Adrien if only so he could laugh at his friend’s dorky faces and the terrible jokes and dumb comments he made.

In return, Adrien introduced him to Japanese, Chinese and Korean Pop and Rock, something new and unusual to spice up his remixes and playlists for parties.

Still, there was no explanation as to how Adrien managed to keep such good grades, when truthfully they were doing anything but their homework during the evenings (although he knew the blond did them anyway). Nino blamed it on smarts, which Adrien had in spades when it came to academics. He always claimed there had been a period where that hadn’t been the case but Nino had a hard time believing that, shrugging it off as Adrien just being modest.

As they grew closer, Nino and his father grew apart. More precisely, his father grew apart from their family the harder his job got. It had been expected and his dad still tried to make it up to them but Nino finally had a grasp on how Adrien probably felt most of the time.

Still, his father had the decency and the common sense to not fall prey to the delusion that the friction between them was going to vanish in exchange for expensive stuff.

Nino only really had a problem with his father’s lack of patience. They all suffered under it, his sisters and mother as well, but there was little to be done.

Compared to Adrien he still considered himself lucky and complained only if absolutely necessary – Adrien’s failed attempts at hiding his longing expression just were not worth his outbursts.

Nino was also proud to say that he had also become an expert in reading Agreste-body-language. Adrien was good and trained in showing what he wanted others to see because of the modelling he partook in, but there were telling ticks that were a good indication to how severe his actual level of stress was.

Hand scratching at the base of his neck? Slightly nervous.  
Reoccurring roll of one or both shoulders? Mildly stressed.  
Palm wiping along the base of hairline? Tired _and_ stressed.  
Arms crossed and locked in front of chest? Not doing good.  
Utter quiet and avoiding eye contact? Worst case scenario.

Right now, Nino knew that whatever was going on in Adrien’s life had to be very bad news.

Yesterday already, the blond had been off. Oh, they had talked and joked but Nino had had the distinct feeling that there was something underneath all the cheer. He did not press though and instead opted to give Adrien the intended present in celebration of their friendship a bit earlier than planned.

It was just a rubber-band, nothing much compared to the gift he had received from Adrien for his birthday (Freaking cards to Aquaboulevard. Freakingly expensive cards to Aquaboulevard.)* but he knew that to Adrien these kinds of things meant more than to the average person.

What he had not expected was the heart-shattered expression he got in return.

He had cursed himself for having let Adrien run off afterwards, but he had just been too stunned to move. He had seen his best friend saddened at different occasions already (far too many to his liking) but it had never been this bad.

Just as he was about to go look for him maybe apologize and console him, Fileur attacked. It was ironic just how often he and his classmates ended up victims of an akuma attack. Fileur never touched them, only made sure that the whole class was now stuck in a sealed off school.

He had herded them into their homeroom (sometimes just by spurring them into movements by shooting nets at their feet or by having them chased by spiders) and once inside shut the windows with his nets.

Nino had only ever been really scared by the Horrificator and although Fileur was not exactly horror-movie material, there was an aura about him that unsettled all of them deeply: A crazed fervency. A suffocating desperation.

When Nino was bold enough to ask where Adrien was (and Alya what happened to Marinette), the possessed boy had only replied that Agreste was of no importance to him.

The door was shut and they had had time to come up with a plan.

Nino just hoped Adrien was doing alright and out of danger. Once they had made it out of the classroom and once Ladybug had wrung the promise out of them to leave even if they should not find Adrien (as if he would stick to something so stupid!), Nino and his classmates searched every corner of the building.

The number of people dropped dramatically after the assigned ten minutes but Nino was not going to hold it against them if they chose to go home. The place was positively creepy.

Many rooms were glued shut, other littered with sticky webs. He was just thankful that for once Alya had stayed to help in favour of running after her idol. The gesture meant a lot to him.

Ladybugs healing light came without warning and the basement which they had been trying to twist their way through, suddenly returned to its original state. Alya took it as her cue to leave, saying that if anything, finding Adrien would now be a given. She also was worried for Marinette who again failed to answer any of her messages.

Nino accompanied her to the inner courtyard and then proceeded to shout for Adrien. When after an eternity of waiting and running around and looking and still shouting some more, no answer came he punched in the number of Gabriel’s and Adrien’s assistant Nathalie in a desperate attempt to get any clues. She was just as clueless as him it turned out. He startled when he thought he saw a shadow up above but that was forgotten the moment his best friend shuffled out of the changing room.

He had rushed to his side and almost frozen in place as he took in the air of doom and gloom that seemed to ooze of off Adrien. Nino had not wanted to fuzz but it was easier said than done.

Adrien, usually ready to give assurance, had only asked in a small voice if he could wait with him until the gorilla would come and pick him up. Nino had agreed, dumbfounded, and watched as Adrien despondently typed out a message on his mobile, probably addressed to Nathalie to tell her where to find him.

They sat at the front of school on the steps, Nino filling the uncomfortable silence with a recount of the akuma attack. He had hoped it would lighten his best friend’s mood but he was frantic when all it did was making the blond look even _more_ miserable.

For a terrible second, Nino entertained the thought that Fileur had been Adrien. The hair and height matched at least. But the idea was thrown overboard a second later when he remembered that their attacker had fled the scene. He knew from personal experience that where ever Ladybug had purified the akuma, the victim also bound to be.

But even now, a day after the attack, as they sat in Nino’s room playing a monster hunting RPG, he could tell that Adrien’s heart was not into it.

Pushing the pause button and throwing his controller on his bed, he turned to Adrien who was staring at the screen, unseeing.

“Okay, enough already!”

The words startled Adrien to the point he almost dropped his controller, scrambling to get a better grip on it again. Nino just blinked at him. Okay, Adrien looked wrecked but he could not actually be that tired, could he?

Adrien turned away, avoiding looking at him. Alarm bells rang off in Nino’s head.

“What’s going on with you?”, he said firmly but not unkindly. Whenever Adrien got like this it was better to get him to talk. He had this nasty habit of internalizing problems until they grew over his head. Just like now.

“It’s nothing.”

Nino was not impressed.

“BULL-SHIT.”, he retorted, accentuating every syllable, willing his stare to become more intense.

Adrien had the decency to look ashamed at his poor lie.

The uncomfortable silence from yesterday was back.

And it went on and on and on.

“I won’t be coming back to school after summer.”

Nino really wanted to believe this was just a tasteless joke on Adrien’s part. Judging by the hopeless expression on his best friend’s face, it wasn’t.

“Why?”

It felt like the world had ended when without a warning as tears poured out from Adrien’s eyes, splashing onto the controller he was holding in a death-grip. Nino cared little if shattered at this point.

Nino was at a loss. He had never seen his best friend so completely and utterly broken.

“Sorry.”, Adrien murmured, wiping at his eyes as though his sadness, his obvious _pain,_ were a simple inconvenience to be shrugged off.

Nino knew the culprit. Never had he hated Gabriel Agreste more than he did in that moment. The fury he had felt on the day he became Bubbler paled in comparison.

But this was not about kicking the designer somewhere where the sun never shone for being a neglecting scumbag: this was about his best friend who needed his support.

Reaching over, Nino draped his arm over Adrien’s shoulders and held him. His friend stiffened in surprise but eased up shortly after. They sat like that, on the floor, for hours, Adrien never sniffling, just leaking tears and telling him in a quiet voice about the conversation that had taken place in Gabriel’s office a few days ago.

It was shocking how daft and up-stuck a person had to be to believe that what Adrien had delivered at the end of last trimester was anything but excellent. Nino would honestly _kill_ to have such grades. Students with such grades on their school leaving examination received _money_ from the _state*_ as a recompense for their good work!

And Gabriel Agreste had the nerve to tell his son that this was not good enough? Nino wished more than ever to once again have his akuma power just so he could propel the man out of orbit and maybe the galaxy while he was at it.

He had seen Adrien struggle with the amount of responsibilities resting on his shoulders, had seen him completely exhausted after a week filled with shoots, fencing and whatever other classes he was taking. Adrien never complained, only worked, only ever worked in the hope to please a father who was not worth it.

Yet, Nino kept quiet. Arguments with Adrien about his father tended to end badly. Nino did not have to be added to the growing list of his friend’s problems.

When evening rolled around, Adrien’s phone buzzed to let him know the gorilla had arrived.

Adrien had gotten up, packed his things, given him a silent fist-bump in thanks and left after telling his family good-bye and thanking them for their hospitality.

When the front door clicked shut audibly, Nino went for his mobile and contacted Alya.

They needed a battle plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALEC and Chamack: In France, newscasters are treated like idols, often featuring in adds and publishing their own works. 
> 
> Aquaboulevard: Is a gigantic and pretty awesome waterpark in Paris. It is huge and when I was still living in the city of love I only got to visit it once. I can say that the tickets used to be very, very, very expensive (at least in my family's opinion). Really only something you can do as a birthday present.
> 
> Money for good grades: This is an actual thing, although I am not sure whether this information is still correct. I learned about it in my seminar on French culture not too long ago and as such hope that it still holds true. When you pass your final examination with exceptional grades you receive money (although it now seems to be tied to a lot of bureaucracy).


	4. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein strength lies in numbers and good parenting is not self-explenatory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter will be heavily focusing on symptoms of depression and intrusive thoughts. There will be no violence, blood or suicidal ideation. Still, I feel that giving you an appropriate warning is necessary.  
> -  
> I wanted to thank everyone who has liked and commented on this work! I’m so happy so many have been enjoying it so far and I hope that this final chapter will live up to your expectations.
> 
> That being said, I also wanted to apologize for the long wait you’ve suffered but real life and research for this chapter kind of made writing very hard.
> 
> I also must add that I have yet to see all of the Ladybug episodes: Volpina and a few others. As such I only have the barest knowledge when it comes to Master Fu. I also developed and wrote this story at a time where Tikky’s and Plagg’s coming into our heroes’ lives had not yet aired. I tried my hardest to smooth out the plot inconsistencies as best as possible but it still is still bumpy when it comes to Hawk Moth’s powers.  
> This story will now be tagged AU, since I never planned on Gabriel being the antagonist of our superheroes in this one.   
> This is just the story of a neglectful parent and his struggling kid.   
> Adrien does not need any more unpleasant surprises I’m sure...
> 
> Anyway, thanks for sticking with me and here we go!

Marinette had spent the afternoon crying. Crying because she was a dense idiot. Crying because of Chat Noir’s pain. Crying because she now realized that her crush, Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir and thus the one suffering. Crying because she had been so blinded by this perfect image she had crafted. Crying because the two lives she had wanted to keep separate so desperately had become so intertwined. Crying because the boy she liked and the boy who was her most trusted partner would be taken from her.

Marinette looked up from her damp pillow, her phone buzzing with messages from Alya asking what had gotten into her.

To be quite honest, Marinette herself had no idea.

When she had caught sight of the rubber band on his wrist, her first thought was a swear word. She never swore, but her brain had deemed the occasion appropriate enough she guessed. Then came denial. She had taken her pencil, still numbed with shock and Alya had teased, misinterpreting her silence and paleness as one of her usual meltdowns.

Concentrating on her classes had been impossible. Looking Adrien in the face was out of the question.

It was her luck that today was a Wednesday, giving her the opportunity to bolt out of the classroom around noon and not having to force herself through the torture of not letting her conflicting emotions show. Alya still had noticed but what was there to say? Oh, I just realized that the love of my life became an Akuma yesterday and did I tell you he is also my partner, whose advances I never returned because I was too busy fawning over his civil persona?

It all clicked into place and made painfully sense. Adrien and Chat had the same pale-blond hair despite the difference in style. Both had green eyes, although she had always thought that for Chat it was only due to his mask. Same height and build. Even the same voice now that she really gave it some thought but the choice of words and inflections could not have been more different.

The fact that she had never seen Chat Noir in the same room as her crush, just like nobody would ever see Marinette and Ladybug at once, should have raised a dozen flags. It never had because she never could have conceived the idea that her modest and friendly classmate could be the flirtatious dork she had fought alongside with for the better part of the past year.

It rose once again the question whether she really had any idea who her partner and, as she admitted glumly, her crush truly was.

Tikky flew into her line of sight, her antenna’s drooping, mirroring her own mood.

She gave her a stroke with her finger in thanks, appreciating her presence and silent comfort.

Tikky was the most positive creature she had ever encountered; she was a little surprised that the kwami had yet to try and cheer her up verbally.

As if sensing her line of thought, Tikky gave her a tiny smile, bordering on a smirk.

“You know, now that I think about it: If Chat Noir really is Adrien then that means that your crush has been flirting with you all this time.”

Unbidden, Marinette felt her face burning and gave an embarrassed groan of misery because, yes indeed, the red kwami did have a point there.

To think that Adrien had called her, or rather her alter-ego, Bugaboo affectionately, had held her hand, winked at her and joked about how (truthfully) good-looking he was under the mask, protected her and held her close…

The shock came when she remembered the Dislocoeur incident on Valentine’s Day. She had kissed Chat Noir on that day, meaning that unknowingly she had kissed Adrien Agreste on the mouth and shortly after lied to him that she had disliked it.

If dying of mortification were a thing, Marinette was sure she would now be dead ten times over. Her head flopped back onto the pillow as she gave a muffled, suffering moan.

She glanced up at the tinkling chuckles of Tikky who seemed to have the time of her life.

“Feeling better?”, she asked mischievously, eyes twinkling.

Marinette positioned herself so that she now sat on her bed cupping her hands to allow her friend to settle in them.

“Yes, thank you.”, she said fondly, “At least I’m not pitying myself anymore… Although it’s a strange way of comforting someone.”

Tikky chuckled: “You are not the first Ladybug to be worried about their partner. I’ve had practice. If kind words don’t help then there is nothing better than thoroughly embarrassing someone - makes you forget about all the less enjoyable moments.”

Marinette could only nod at that but she turned serious once again.

“But there are still problems to sort out.”

Like, how to act around Chat from now on without giving away that she was aware of his civilian identity. How to further act if indeed Hawk Moth now knew who he was, how to actually help him with his problems at home, for otherwise she would still lose her friend and partner, either to their enemy or from her life.

And if anything, she never ever wanted Adrien to cry again.

Tikky hummed in thought. “As I have told you when we first met, you cannot tell anyone about your true identity.”

Marinette gave her a nod. It was a conversation that had come up many times during their first missions. She had been unsure and very apprehensive to get closer to a stranger like Chat Noir. But it was his words and actions that had helped her become a hero to Paris. She trusted him, always had and always would.

Tikky had once explained to her the implications that came with having Chat Noir and Ladybug reveal their identities: disappointment on both sides, even fights breaking out when the two people under the mask actually knew each other in real life under different, unfavourable circumstances; sometimes joy and fairy-tale like happy endings – the little kwami had seen them all.

It might have been the reason she had been so persistent in her belief that not revealing Ladybug’s identity was for the best.

Not having known that it was Adrien running beside her, Marinette had opted to keep her relationship to Chat distanced but friendly. She had been afraid that she might be swayed in her feelings if she got closer to the civilian under the mask. She had been afraid that her feelings of “love” for Adrien would actually reveal themselves to be something more shallow and Marinette had been afraid of the possibility of having to admit to it.

She had been scared of finding out she was not as loyal and true with her feelings as she had thought.

In the end, it had not been her that had paid the price for her cowardice.

Tikky’s voice pulled her from her quiet musing: “Now, more than ever, you must protect your identity.”

She looked stern.

“Hawk Moth did possess Adrien. You purified the Akuma but that does not mean it’s over. Hawk Moth may be aware you are both close.”

It made so much sense, hurting all the more.

“I want to make sure he knows he is not alone.”, Marinette said with all the sincerity in the world, “The reason he was transformed in the first place was because he had no one to turn to. Can Hawk Moth… do you know if he can create an Akuma again? If a person feels… bad enough again?”

Tikky’s expression mirrored all of her own worries and fears.

“The only thing I can offer you, is going to Master Fu. He might be able to tell us about the extent of hawk Moth’s power and influence.”

Their conversation was cut short by the ring of her phone, Alya’s picture on display. Shushing Tikky, Marinette wiped a finger over the screen, answering.

“Adrien is gonna be taken out of school.”

It was sudden, but it was no shock. The silence was only due to Marinette’s surprise as to how Alya had found out about it.

Getting down from her bed to pace, Marinette clutched at the device tightly. The detached and composed part she often associated with Ladybug surfaced and took control.

“How did you find out?”

There was a beat and Marinette realized a moment too late that this kind of reaction was too unlike the one her best friend would be expecting. She opted to hold onto the mobile with both hands while bashing her head against it and silently cursing her stupidity.

“… No screaming? No crying?”, Alya said, trying to sound like she was joking. Marinette was not fooled. She had, inadvertently, awakened the slumbering beast that was her best friend’s curiosity.

Sucking on her lower lip in search for the right words, Marinette opted: “Ah..I guess… I guess I’m just too shocked for any of that…”

There was pause on the other end of the line, Alya probably deciding whether she should buy into that or needle her with all sorts of questions.

“Aaaaaalright, I am not buying that so expect some questions later but we have more pressing issues.”

Marinette gave a sigh of relief. She might still have to answer Alya but at least she had some time to brainstorm with Tikky about how to avoid disaster.

“But how did you know about it? I thought you were more interested in chasing Ladybug to find out more about her.”

Despite her small size, Tikky could be surprisingly strong as Marinette let herself be steered towards her desk.

“Nino told me.” there was a small pause while Marinette booted her computer for good measure. She was surprised by the hurt in Alya’s voice, small but still discernible “They were hanging out this afternoon and Adrien spilled his father wanted to take him out of school: something about Adrien not doing ‘good’ enough and needing to be in a ‘more quiet’ environment.”

Marinette could practically see Alya making quotation marks at the poor excuses Adrien’s father seemed to have come up with, probably rolling her eyes as well. Anger surge through her violently and quickly, the grip on her hand tightening around her phone until it groaned ominously.

With the knowledge of Adrien not only having juggled a modeling career and school successfully but also a double-life as one of Paris’ heroes, Marinette was overcome by the desire to transform, storm into Gabriel Agreste’s office and shake some very much needed sense into the man.

But even without Tikky shaking her head urgently at her as she understood the meaning behind her stormy expression, Marinette knew that violence would lead to nothing but damage Ladybug’s reputation and possibly hurt Adrien even more.

“So what are we going to do?”

“Nino has already started looking up everything he could about home schooling and I’m helping him.”

There was the loud click and clacking of Alya’s fingers tapping on her laptop’s keyboard coming through the speaker. Then came a suffering groan.

“We’ll have to ask Chloé of all people to help us. Chloé!” she added, scandalized “I think this is the only time I’ll ever be happy for her to be the mayor’s daughter.”

Marinette nodded, despite not being sure why they would specifically need the blonde’s help. She knew little about home-schooling and what it entailed, what authorities were involved. Well, she was going to find out soon enough, she thought dryly as she opened her mails. As expected, she was greeted by a ping and a message with the subject reading “SAVE ADRIEN 2kXX‼!”.

Despite the situation, Marinette barked out a laugh.

“Got my mail I see.” Alya held undisputed ownership over smugness.

“Sure did.”

The battalion of links greeting her made Marinette dizzy. It also put into perspective what they were about to do: Three teenagers, equipped only with minimal knowledge about the laws of the educational system filled in by semi-reliable articles from the internet, against one adult with more money and influence than they could ever imagine.

It was… daunting. But the memory of Adrien crying in her arms, defeated and hopeless, would never allow her to entertain the idea of ever giving up.

Stretching out her arms and linking her fingers, she prepared for a very, very long night.

“Let’s do this.”

Tikky’s smile was encouraging and warm.

* * *

 

To no one’s surprise Adrien was not present at roll call next morning. Marinette saw the grim expression on all of her classmates’ faces, a hard glint their eyes. While the fact that one of her students was missing did not make Madame Bustier falter in the slightest, it was the heavy atmosphere that did; although Marinette could not blame her.

In front of her, Nino gave a mighty yawn he barely managed to hide behind a sluggishly raised hand.

Marinette’s head throbbed in sympathy; feeling as exhausted as most of her classmates looked.

The little discussion, which had started only with Nino, Alya and her, had quickly devolved into a group Skype chat involving all of their classmates.

The amount of shouts of indignation and loud protests and swears had had her frantically turning down her computer’s volume, lest she wanted her parents thundering up the stairs.

Strength lay in numbers, Nino had said and they were going to use it to their full advantage.

Once school was over, they would go to the teacher room. They would knock and ask for Madame Bustier. And then, as a collective, they would do everything they could to get the one ally they needed to help their friend.

For once, she gladly let Chloé work her special brand of unbridled fury and stubbornness to gain their teacher’s favour.

* * *

 

Marinette had often wondered if Hawk Moth did have any other hobbies besides making her and most of Paris miserable. Maybe knitting would help him, she could attest to the soothing clicking of needles as hats, mittens and gloves formed in the matter of minutes. But obviously Hawk Moth only possessed one mindless fixation, which was why not even two days after Fileur she found herself struggling with a new Akuma with a ridiculous obsession about cherries.

Although she should not be, Marinette was both relieved and surprised when her partner landed in front of her just as her opponent took aim at her.

The projectile was flung far away over the roofs of the city, _Chèrie_ following its arch with unbelieving eyes.

“Good to see you, minou.”

She made her voice as gentle and welcoming as possible but all it did was make her partner shrink into himself, ears drooping and his usually lazily swinging ‘tail’ remaining a limp weight at his back. He refused to turn around, going directly for their enemy without so much as heads-up.

She understood, but it still broke her heart a little.

Fighting with her friend so unwilling to speak to her made it difficult to coordinate their attacks. If it weren’t for all the battles they’d fought and muscle memory kicking in at just the right moments, Marinette was not sure if they would have been able to emerge with just a few scratches.

When the last of her cleansing light disappeared within her yo-yo, she was afraid to look back, only to see an empty spot where her partner should be.

The sigh she released was shaky when she found Chat Noir still loitering.

He fidgeted badly; it was nerve-wracking just watching him. Carefully but with a firm grip still, she held onto his shoulders, making him turn around.

His eyes immediately searched a point on the ground to fixate on but she would not have any of that.

She took his chin and guided his face so he would look straight at her.

“Chat.”

He did not move, did not let his eyes flicker to hers for even a second.

“Kitty, just breathe.”, she sighed and was pleased to have him realize that he had been too tense to even do the most basic thing necessary for survival.

His intake was a little shaky but he drew breath at least.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully.”, she made sure her voice was gentle but firm; she wanted to help him, not make him withdraw any further into his shell, “You are my partner.”

His leather ear twitched but his eyes still evaded hers with urgency.

“No matter what happened, I still trust you.”

“But I don’t trust myself.”

It was crushing to hear his hoarse and unsteady voice.

For the first time ever, Chat withdrew from her and her touch.

Gently prying her hands off his shoulders, Chat Noir retreated into an ally without looking back. He emerged on top of a roof seconds later, only to disappear amongst the chimneys and balconies.

Marinette gave a deep, deep sigh.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

 

Adrien rested on the couch in his room, staring at nothing. The day had been awful; there was no other word for it.

He felt brittle. It showed in everything he did there was no denying that he had pushed himself to his very boundaries. Until he just couldn’t anymore.

He may have gotten away the last two days with pretending that he was ill but sooner or later Natahalie and by extension his father were bound to see through his pathetic half-lie.

Instead of understanding, he had been faced with anger and rebukes. On a logical level he understood the accusatory tone lacing Nathalie’s every word, accepted the disparaging glare thrown at him.

But there was no energy left to talk back at her, no ounce of fight in his body to go out into the world and pretend he was fine. He had drawn on his last reserves for too long, far longer than any person probably should and now… now he was left with nothing.

While his father had been informed, Adrien had used the short moment it took the woman to make it back behind her desk to reach for the phone to slink out of her office, down the hall, up the stairs and into his room. He responded to her aggravated shouts by taking longer strides, closing the door on her just as her face just appeared at the top of the stairs.

Adiren would have to deal with her anger later. And that of his father’s once that time came.

He had locked his door for good measure. Days earlier, the rebellious act would have been disconcertingly exciting.

Today it held no meaning.

His father would not pound on the door, would not demand entry, he would not even be the one showing up. He would send back Nathalie to do his dirty work.

Adrien would not open the door. That was the only thing he was going to do today. Nothing.

“You could at least have the decency to feed me.”

Adrien allowed his eyes to stray to Plagg’s pouting form. They had gone through different stages of interaction over the past few days: quiet support, outspoken concern, outraged anger, forced normalcy…

Currently Plagg was trying for petulant pouting and joking to get a rise out of him.

Adrien wished it would stir him but it didn’t. He felt too… empty. Drained.

There was cheese in a small fridge disguised as a cabinet in a corner. Plagg knew where to find food. He simply wanted Adrien to move.

The model thought, with a hint of bitterness, that he would yet again have to disappoint someone.

He turned onto his side, anything to not have to face his responsibilities in form of the small floating cat.

Anything to not have to face the fact that he could not do this. Plagg could pretend all he wanted but Adrien knew, hoped and dreaded that the kwami would soon accept the inevitable. Adrien did not even know why the small creature was stalling its departure.

He closed his eyes and tried to forget.

A knock had him opening one of them a slit, to stare at the cushions. Another knock followed.

They had come earlier than expected. He ignored it.

The knocking grew more persistent. Adrien opted closing his eye again and going to sleep. What could they do anyway? Use the gorilla as a battering ram to take it down?

The knocks did not stop.

“If I were you, I would not make the lovely lady in red wait for you to get your self-pitying behind in motion.”

Adrien jerked up so fast he thought he might get whiplash.

“What!”

The knocks paused. Frantic, Adrien looked around the room for any indication as to where it had come from, when his eyes caught a dark spot on one of his tilted windows, waving at him.

Rushing to the switch to open it, Adrien straightened his rumpled clothes and messy hair. He halted when she dropped into the room and stood straight, looking at him with a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Hello.”

Adrien swallowed past the lump in his throat, “H-hi.”

_Way to go, Agreste. Make a fool out of yourself in civilian as well._

She was mapping out his face with her blue eyes, something between amusement and wonder.

“I had to be completely blind not to see it before.”, she said cryptically, words sardonic, “If I had seen with your hair like that maybe I would have known sooner.”

Self-consciously, he touched his head but without a mirror it was impossible to tell what she was getting at.

“Shouldn’t a gentleman invite a guest to take a seat?”, she jested and it almost took Adrien’s breath away.

He had the urgent need to pinch himself but his limbs (and mind for that matter) refused to work. He must have fallen asleep. This had to be a dream. But if this were a dream he definitely would not feel so lousy.

 It took a moment for her words to make it to the deepest, dormant part of his brain that was responsible to common sense and courtesy.

“Oh, oh, yeah…of course... I mean…”, he was a flustered, blushing ball of nervous energy, “Woul-would you like to take a seat?”

She gave him a grateful nod and settled on his couch, then proceeded to give him an inviting look. Adrien quickly checked over the room, finding no kwami flying around. Plagg probably had hid once he had delivered his sarcastic message.

Legs feeling like jelly, Adrien slowly made his way over to Ladybug and sat himself on the far end, leaving ample space between them. She looked somewhat amused by his antics but seemed to think better of it than to voice it and humiliate him further.

Awkward silence hung over them and now that he was seated and that his heart had a chance to stop beating frantically did some of the fog that had been hanging over him for the last few days lift enough to ask one important question:

_Why_ was Ladybug in his room?

As Adrien he had only had few and depressingly short interactions, unlike his superhero persona. They barely knew each other, merely a passer-by in the other’s life. The model and the superhero.

Adrien could admit, at least to himself, that he had indulged in some daydreams of Ladybug catching an interest not in her partner Chat Noir but Adrien Agreste. Dull teenager with an exciting life noticed by the most incredible girl he had ever met.

It was a nice daydream.

But this wasn’t one of his painstakingly crafted fantasies with lines he had rehearsed to perfection. This was reality where he felt lost for words as he grappled with the concept that for some reason his partner had unknowingly found his way into his home. Unless…

Her words from earlier slammed into him with the force a cannonball.

Adrien was not aware that it was possible to feel simultaneously sick while your throat completely clogged up.

Something in his expression must have given him away because Ladybug looked at him concernedly, a hand tentatively outstretched to probably calm him down. Adrien pretty much rocketed out of his seat, taking hasty steps towards his bathroom before he stopped, realizing that nothing would come up. His throat wouldn’t allow it and that piece of toast he’d eaten a few hours ago would probably have dissolved already.

So he stood there, between the couch and the bathroom door with his back turned to his Lady again. It seemed like this was the only way he could face her these days.

His breathing felt loud in his own ears as he gulped in air in an attempt to calm himself. It didn’t help much, nor did it lessen the nausea roiling and thrashing inside him like a restless animal.

Thankfully, Ladybug gave him time. Maybe she had realized what had caused his sudden reaction, maybe she was waiting for him to explain himself. Adrien had no idea.

His voice came out more ragged than he had expected: “Do you… _know?_ ”

He sounded terribly small and afraid. Not that he wasn’t – he was terrified.

“That you’re my partner? Yes.”

Something heavy was settling over his shoulders, like a blanket of metal that was dragging him down.

The muscles in his neck ached as he let his head drop to his chest, fighting, fighting, fighting the tears that were threatening to well up. Sucking on his lips he made sure no sound escaped him. He could feel the shift of his muscles as he clenched his fists as hard as he could.

He really couldn’t do anything right.

“I’m sorry.”

The whisper was still loud enough to carry over to her if her sharp intake of breath was any indication.

Ladybug was light on her feet, Adrien knew all too well but he still jerked when suddenly he was pulled into a hug, dark hair tickling his nose and held his arms as far away as he could when his friend tightened her hold.

Slowly he let his arms dangle at his side, too afraid of returning the gesture.

“You did nothing wrong. It’s okay.”

The murmured reassurance found its way into his ear but not any further, blocks and barriers denying access to the folds of his brain that were supposed to make him feel better about himself and the world. Those parts had been pretty inactive for the past few days. It did not disturb him as much as it probably should.

“You said you didn’t want to reveal our secret identities to each other. It was important to you.”

There was a lull, one that gave him the opportunity to think past the shock and sadness. His brow furrowed when he came to realize something.

“How did you find out anyway?”

It probably was his tone, tinged with the slightest accusation and suspicion, that spurred Ladybug into withdrawing but still close enough to still hold onto his hands loosely.

The mask made it hard to see but Adrien was sure that was a blush coating her cheeks while for once, she evaded his gaze.

“Well Paris’s a small town, or maybe not _that_ small but anyway. It’s one of the biggest cities in the world actually, yeah so maybe, actually…. You kind of run into other people?”

She ended meekly; smile more of a pained grimace at her poor try at sounding casual, blue eyes betraying her sheepishness.

The ridiculousness of both her statement and her expression managed to do what Adrien had thought impossible: he laughed, deep and belly-aching, tears of mirth springing into his eyes, doubling over as he wheezed for breath.

It felt good, even if it did little about alleviating the constant, crushing pressure on his mind and body.

“That’s got to be the worst explanation ever.” He finally got out, interrupting his Lady before she could protest, mouth wide open in mock offense, “Sorry. I understand if you don’t want to tell me, just… thank you.”

It felt good knowing that he was not alone, that he had not been abandoned because of his failure, that she still cared, that she did not shy away from the boy under the mask, that she unconditionally supported him.

That he was important enough for her to come and reassure him.

_And he would still lose this._

The sudden thought viciously washed away all of his good feelings he had scrapped together, like a flood uprooting young trees and burying it under the heavy, sloshing mud. Suffocating.

The sudden silence, heavy with his unspoken fears, permeated the air. Ladybug cast him a worried look, brows furrowed with incomprehension as to what had brought about his sudden change in mood.

His hand played with the silver ring around his finger, fiddling with it, turning it around his finger so quickly it irritated his skin. His friend’s attention zeroed in on it and she let out a quick gasp that made Adrien jerk.

“I almost forgot.”

And she swiftly unstrapped her yo-yo.

Adrien knew his baton was more than just a stick he could fence with or use for dramatic entrances. The first time he had called Ladybug, he had stared at the sliding panel of his weapon suddenly wondering what other little gadgets it may hide. Even cheese had not been enough to get Plagg to open up about its properties and Adrien remembered his indignation at the kwami’s self-satisfied smirk, tiny teeth glinting.

So of course, he was watching with quite some fascination as she opened the yo-yo like other women would do with a pocket mirror, only to have a perfectly cut piece of wedge of cheese materialize. And not just any cheese – camembert. The smell was a dead-giveaway.

“How did you…”

Before he had even finished, a black blur shot towards the small piece of dairy product, taking it with him and slamming into the cushions of his couch with chitters and trills of delight the blond rarely heard from his companion. Whatever Ladybug had produced from her yo-yo had to be something extraordinarily good.

They approached the couch quietly, like one might a wild animal and peeking over the backrest to look down at Plagg clutching the cheese between his tiny paws and rubbing his head into the mould like an actual cat might do with their favourite human.

But unlike his feline look-alikes, Plagg did not let lose purrs but a ceaseless stream of praises, purple prose at its finest. How _anyone_ could be this enamoured with any kind of food, even less cheese, was beyond Adrien’s understanding. He also was not sure he wanted to understand.

Beside him, Ladybug seemed undecided whether to be amused or shocked.

“…such a perfect smell. And the colour, whiteness only achieved by giving it the time it needs to mature into this kind of culinary perfection, to the state of art that it is.”

Adrien was impressed, turning to Ladybug with a chuckle as she kept on staring.

“Seems like you already won Plagg over.”

“I guess…”

Her hesitance and befuddlement was endearing to watch.

“I mean, Tikky told me her kwami friend would love cheese but this…” her hand flapped vaguely and the sentence was left unfinished. Adrien got it.

“Plagg is very particular about his favourite treat.” He sounded fonder than he had intended, a crippling shadow of the annoyance he usually displayed at this particular subject. It was future melancholy speaking.

“Is your kwami, Tikky right? Are they not as fixated on whatever they eat?”

Ladybug shook her head, an amused smile on her lips. Her eyes told him she had not missed the tone of his voice but was polite enough to let it go for now. Adrien was eternally grateful for it.

“She loves cookies and you _will_ get into her good graces if you ever offer her one just out of the goodness of your heart but she is…” she seemed to search for the appropriate word as Plagg stuffed the whole of the camembert into his mouth. Adrien could never get over how bizarre his misshapen kwami looked whenever he binge-ate and neither was Ladybug apparently. When Plagg let out a burp she finally seemed to have found the word. “… yeah, Tikky is more civilized.”

Plagg zipped towards her, tiny forehead bumping into her nose as he gave a shout of protest.

“I will let you know that I am the most charming company you will ever have the pleasure to meet!”

Adrien snorted but he did not care about Plagg’s challenging glare.

“Aren’t you thanking the nice Lady for bringing you such a valuable gift?” he added once Plagg floated away lazily, Ladybug trying and failing at rubbing the abused tip of her nose discreetly.

“If anything I will thank Tikky for having thought of informing your friend about my preferences but seeing as that might be a little hard to arrange: thank you for the treat.”

He gave a tiny bow, rolling over in the air and gliding back towards Adrien. He probably shouldn’t feel like a proud parent but he still did. That was no excuse for not teasing the heck out of the kwami. Just one more time before good-bye.

“I had no idea you had it in you to be such a gentleman.”

“I may be the kwami of destruction and bad luck but I am, in no way, an animal.”

The smile tugging at Adrien’s lips quivered. God, how was he going to survive without his friend?

He couldn’t think about it.

But he had to. Had to ask the question Plagg was too cowardly to ask. Had to do what the kwami had been refusing to do.

His hand adorned by the ring was fisted so tightly it hurt.

“Have you found a new holder for the ring?”

Both Ladybug and Plagg were staring at him as though he had lost his mind, mouths opened wide in pure, undiluted shock. Slowly, the surprised melted into something harsher, fiercer and suddenly Adrien’s vision was full of a black and furious kwami.

“Are you still on about that! I told you it was not necessary! Are your ears still stuffed with cobwebs or why are you not listening!”

But he was only half-listening to Plagg’s rant he had grown accustomed to over the last few days. He was gauging Ladybug’s reaction whenever he managed to see past the angry black blur.

She looked… displeased. And a little disappointed.

It made him feel small. Of course she would be. She wasn’t one to give up so easily. Wasn’t one to give up as easily as him.

She seemed to have gotten her wits back together though, arms akimbo, a determined glint burning in her eyes.

“No.” she said clearly, Plagg shutting up at her firm exclamation. “And I won’t because there is no need to.”

Adrien blinked at her. “But, Hawk Moth possessed me. He probably knows who I am.”

The fear filling his mouth with a metal tang was familiar by now, anxiety he had learned how to ignore over the course of the years.

She shook her head again, pigtails following the motion.

“I met with master Fu and he assured me th-“

“Master who?”

Ladybug looked just as surprised as him.

“You haven’t met him?” She inquired and when he shook his head no, she immediately turned to his kwami, looking upset and reproachful. Her arms wildly gestured at him though. “He hasn’t met him?!”

Plagg gave a nonchalant shrug, kicking his legs as though he were swimming through water and not through empty air.

“So what if he didn’t meet an old man?”

Ladybug seemed incapable of processing the statement, fingers going to her face and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Okay,” she breathed, sounding exasperated but ready to go on “okay, then this gonna take a bit longer than planned.”

And she told him everything. About how Master Fu had given them their Miraculous boxes, about how he himself was a wearer but too old to use his, how he could heal kwami that fell ill (You can get sick? Duh.) and about how he knew the many ways the kwami and their miraculous worked – including Hawk Moth’s.

“So, what you are saying is that he actually doesn’t know my identity?”

It sounded too good to be true.

“Once he loses the connection to a champion or Akuma, he no longer retains clear memories of the possession. Just the vaguest sense of it and even then Master Fu thinks that he would be unable to recall whom he had under his control.”

It sounded far too good to be true. Adrien dragged both his hands over his face as he gave a guttural groan. He was so tired.

Ladybug gave him time to process. She would not like what he was going to say.

“It doesn’t matter. Not with my father wanting to monitor me 24/7.” he swallowed, but it did nothing about the bitterness of his words “I can’t help you if I’m trapped.”

He had avoided looking at her, so he was a little surprised when a warm hand took in his chilly one. He hadn’t noticed how cold he’d grown. 

Her thumb gently ran over his knuckles, brow furrowed marginally. Ladybug seemed to want to say something. When their eyes met, she seemed to think better of it and closed her mouth again, looking away but not letting go.

It was soothing.

“Everything is going to work out.”

She said it with conviction, with an assurance that was overwhelming and heart-warming.

He really wished he could smile back at her but it was beyond him.

Adrien wanted to believe her so badly. But he was afraid that if he dared to hope he would crash all the harder. He didn’t think that he could weather even one more disappointment. Allowing himself any sort of hope could prove fatal.

He wished this quiet moment could last.

* * *

 

Madame Bustier and Monsieur Bourgeois entered the office, a man Gabriel recognized as an inspector from the education department following them and closing the door.

Inspector Lamare and the mayor he had expected but he was taken aback by the presence of his son’s room teacher.

“Good morning.”, he greeted, receiving one from the three people striding towards him, “Please, have a seat.”

They took his offer, placing themselves in the chairs his assistants had provided just after Nathalie had relayed the arrival of his guests to him.

Finishing the last sentence of his email, he shut the program and turned fully to his guests.

“What can I do for you?”

He glanced at Monsieur Lamare shortly.

“I take this meeting is in regards to my son’s home-schooling?”

To his surprise, it was not the bespectacled man who spoke up but Madame Bustier.

“It is indeed.”, she admitted he tone mild but she looked at him in an assessing manner. Gabriel noted it but chose not to comment on it for now. “There are some concerns regarding your plans to take your son, Adrien, out of school.”

“Concerns.” Gabriel willed himself to sound inquisitive, calm when inside of him every nerve bristled. He intertwined his fingers in his lap to keep from agitating his hands.

She gave him a nod.

“Concerns whether or not this decision is truly in his best interests.”

Irritation rose inside him but he had to remain composed. Madame Bustier was no school-girl he could chastise for her insolence and misconceptions. She was no fool, simply ignorant of the circumstances.

“What kind of concerns might those be?”

He now noticed a folder she had discreetly held in her lap up until now, opening it and leafing through various papers, some of which Gabriel suspected to be report cards.

“I want to say, first and foremost, that Adrien is a bright child.”, she took out one of the papers, laying it on the table for all to see. It was indeed a report card, filled with recommendations from the teachers. “He is very gifted when it comes to Natural Sciences and has been praised on many occasions for his outstanding performance in P.E.”

She gave him a long, critical look: “He is one of the most reliable and forthcoming children I have had the pleasure of working with. He is also very supportive towards his classmates, all of whom he gets along with very well.”

She paused, probably thinking about how to word her approach. It had to be his face Gabriel concluded. It was impossible not to frown at her. He knew all of these things and also where this kind of conversation was headed.

She inhaled deeply before continuing: “Truth be told, your son is one of our best students and we do not see any need from him to be removed from our facility, unless of course there are medical reasons.”

Gabriel wanted to scoff. His son had been doing better when he had been at home. These days, Adrien often returned tired and struggled to complete his tasks. It had been easier to manage those when he had still been at home.

She seemed to have guessed his train of thought, her lips pursing and eyebrows creasing.

“Should this not be enough to convince you then I have to regrettably inform you that it were your son’s classmates, and closest friends, that approached me recently.”

Gabriel did not have to guess whom she was talking about. Hiding his displeasure was not a simple task.

“One admitted to having had to console Adrien a few days ago. He repeatedly stressed that your son was not taking the decision well.”

That was unexpected.

It was Lamare who took over for her.

“Taking these things into account, we have to make sure that everything is in order with your application for home-schooling your son.”

The inspector smiled amicably, in a placating manner.

It did nothing to curb Gabriel’s temper, but don’t let it be said that he was not a very convincing actor.

His eyes fell upon Madame Bustier who held his gaze, a quite remarkable thing seeing as even Madame Sancoeur, composed and professional, had at times trouble withstanding his mild glares.

When he spoke, it was not just to her: “I shall explain to in detail, as to why I wish to have Adrien back at home.”

He wanted to stand up and pace, walking always helped best with his emotions but with an audience that was watching him so intently it simply was not an option.

“Almost nine months ago, a man going by the name of Hawk Moth started terrorizing Paris, turning its citizens into his servants at random. People with, at times, worrisome powers.”

He did _not_ allow Bourgeois to pretend he was not present, the man having started to fidget and avoid his gaze. There had been meetings at Town Hall, many of which Gabriel attended out of duty to a city he felt deeply attached to.

He had never missed an occasion of reminding Bourgeois of the necessity of arresting the criminal and to stop relying on a pair of teenagers to do the police’s work.

“Repeatedly, Collège Du-Pont has become the target of Akuma attacks. Classes were cancelled each time and the students often distracted because of the incidents – it is no secret.” He added at Madame Bustier’s cross expression.

He was merciless.

“Your establishment can no longer ensure my son receives the kind of education a young man should easily be provided within this country. As his father, it is my duty to make sure that Adrien only has the best chances in life. I will not allow a competent but overly ambitious teacher to tell me otherwise.”

It took everything to remain seated. There were very few things that truly could bring him to show any form of anger but this was one of them. Few people knew and even fewer understood just how important a role education had played in his life. He had promised himself that Adrien would never be forced to fight for it like he had had to.

His visitors had no argument to counter his, as expected. Gabriel could feel the tight coil inside his gut unwind marginally.

Inspector Lamare cleared his throat, although it had less to do with trying to diffuse the unbearable tension rather than him actually having swallowed the wrong way.

“If I may.” He began, fingers tapping on the worn leather of his suitcase leisurely. Gabriel inclined his head minimally, but they knew each other well enough to catch onto these cues. “All arguments I have heard today hold value. And as an employee of the ministry of education it is my duty to investigate this case.”

Gabriel was displeased. Yet, Lamare had a point and he knew that the man was old and prone to pedantry. It was one of the reasons he was one of the best in his metier.

“When can we make the earliest appointment?”

While others hummed in thought Inspector Lamare was one of those people that closed their eyes, face calm but concentrated.

“Wednesday at the earliest, although I would not encourage you to.”, he added as Gabriel jotted the inspector’s name down in his diary.

Gabriel did not grace him with any sort of response. Silence was the best way of suffocating protest. It was how he had gotten where was now.

“Will Madame Bustier need to attend?”

She bristled, obviously offended at his offhanded tone but Inspector Lamare gave him the answer he had hoped for: “Only if there are serious discrepancies.”

He gave a nod, bidding all of them a good afternoon and resuming his work as though there had never been any interruption to begin with. He made sure Madame Sancoeur would mark Lamare’s appointment as she carried the two spare chairs out of the room.

For a short while, Gabriel relished in the quiet and tranquillity of his office, putting measurements into the file he had opened on the computer while reviewing one final time the designs for the latest collection he was going to present in half a year’s time.

The calm was his element. Wherein other designers needed constant noise, movement, agitation and company to get their creativity running, Gabriel only needed to be left alone with his thoughts.

The tip of his pencil hovered uncertainly over the edges of a leather jacket. It was the one piece of clothing he had spent the most time on, yet it was also the most elusive one, changing and morphing as the weeks in which Gabriel had drawn and redrawn it first and then adjusted and readjusted the instructions to.

He shouldn’t make any more changes but the vision in front of his mind’s eye did not align with the reality of it. Maybe it was the material…

A knock gave him pause, frowning at the closed door. His finger went automatically to the memory button connecting him to his assistant’s office when the knocking sounded again and he noticed it coming from his large window.

Slowly turning around he was met with Ladybug hanging onto what looked like a dark rope, waving at him through the glass.

Gabriel did not know what he had expected of this day but surely not this. The irritation he had slowly felt ebbing away as he immersed himself in his work returned, harder and colder than before.

Shyly, the young girl gestured for him to open the window and although Gabriel felt strongly enamoured with the idea of shutting the non-existent blinds to his office window, he got up with kind of long-suffering resignation one got used to after the nth time the seamstresses misread one of his hand-written instructions.

Ladybug was petite and much lither than she appeared on TV, easily fitting through the comparably small gap that the window actually provided.

“Thank you for allowing me inside.”, she gave him a polite smile, whereas he gave her a scowl.

He was not particularly fond of the heroic duo that spent their time running around Paris, doing the police’s work. They were teenagers, not some official forces.

Yet, this young mademoiselle had showed up at his office and it would not do him any good to openly antagonize one of the city’s most beloved figures. It was the only reason he had let her inside.

“I have very little time, Miss Ladybug.”, he said curtly, seating himself behind his desk. “I would be most grateful if you made this brief.”

She nodded understandingly: “I promise it will be worth your time.”

He begged to differ but showed her with a hand to take a seat. She shook her head.

“To what do I owe… the pleasure of your presence?”

She caught on the undertone in his voice and he felt a deliberate pleasure at seeing the tendons in her neck going rigid with what he assumed was indignation. He face was carefully neutral in contrast.

Her voice wasn’t.

“I am here because of Adrien.”

Gabriel was glad he was not holding a pencil in his hand. In his irritation, he might have snapped it in half.

“I see.”, he responded, taking just a second to close his eyes in favour of a huff. “You were listening in on the conversation preceding this one, am I correct?”

When she made no move to defend herself, he glared at her icily.

“Isn’t it unbecoming of a young lady, and a great idol to Paris, to eavesdrop on other people’s private conversations?”

She was unimpressed by his attempts at making her feel guilty. Times spent battling crazed villains with superpowers must have made her impervious to such tactics.

Instead she opted to cross her arms over her chest.

“Have you made a decision yet?”

Her audacity was unbelievable.

“Of what interest should it be to you, whether another boy goes to public school or not? I was not aware that Ladybug worked for the ministry of education.”

His biting sarcasm was not appreciated. He could see it her very stance, in the way she shifted her weight, in the way her eyes burned with a cold fury. He was aggravating her.

Still, she remained calm, a remarkable feat for a teenager if Gabriel had to be honest. Even he had been prone to irrational outbursts in his youth.

“Depending on your answer”, she conceded, watching him intently, “there is something that I have to tell you.”

She was serious about this. Gabriel found himself intrigued and curious. What business did his son have with Ladybug?

Resting his elbows on his desk, he interlaced his fingers, staring at her over the top of his glasses.

“I still believe that Adrien would be able to develop his full potential at home, where he is undistracted and safe.”

She looked stricken, but the expression vanished in the blink of an eye, quite literally.

Ladybug took a deep breath and shook his world to the core.

By the end, Gabriel cared little that this visit had taken up most of his afternoon. Until she was off again to save Paris.

Gabriel was far too horror-struck to even spare a single disparaging thought towards heroic teenagers being reckless.

* * *

 

 

Adrien pulled the door closed and let himself fall on his bed, Plagg zipping off to open the small fridge in the corner to hunt down cheese.

The blond was beat and tired after his Chinese classes and having had to hold off an Akuma on his own until his Lady arrived to purify it, apologizing and explaining that something important had held her off.

He did not blame her but his energy reserves were already pretty depleted. A long fight against an Akuma had not helped that.

Sluggishly he drew his comforter over his head, mumbling to Plagg that he was going to nap for a few minutes. He did not bother undressing anything other than his shoes.

“I will let you get some beauty-sleep, if you get me some more Camembert from the kitchen.”, the kwami retorted, chewing and munching on the stash that had still been in their room.

Adrien only managed a tired smile and a garbled ‘Later’. Plagg would leave him alone for now. He was kind of glad that the black, cat-like creature was being a bit more indulgent with him these days. At least, while it still lasted.

Adrien’s eyes flew open what felt like moments later. His room had grown dark, the colour of the sky outside a mixture of indigo, blue and red. He swiped a hand over his face, lamenting the fact that he would have to pull an all-nighter again to finish his homework for Monday, seeing as tomorrow he would be occupied with a shoot.

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes groaning, going rigid when his mattress dipped unexpectedly.

Eyes snapping to the end of his bed, Adrien stared at the figure sitting at the foot of it, watching him intently.

“Good evening, Adrien.”

Adrien went very still. He was probably still half-asleep.

His father shut the book he had been reading, the thick copy resting in his hand. Adrien recognized it as one of the volumes from his shelves.

Gabriel’s glasses glinted in the evening sun.

Wakefulness slammed into Adrien like a freight train.

“Good evening, father.”, he scrambled, trying to sit up properly but his father motioned him to calm down.

Adrien was utterly befuddled. The last time his father had been in his room, had been shortly after their relocation; to make sure everything was in order.

To find him now calmly sitting here was a novel experience. Even when his mother had still been around, his father had seldom intruded what he considered Adrien’s personal space.

His father weighed the book in his hand, looking at it intently, as if it held the answers to everything - whatever it was that he was looking for.

It was saddening how awkward it felt to have one of his wishes come true. Having his father now here in his room, Adrien did not know what to say or what questions to ask first.

His father’s voice startled him.

“I…”

Gabriel stopped, Adrien watching with rapt attention as he drew a breath.

“I have a lot of flaws and I am aware of all of them.”

Adrien was not sure whether he or a stranger was watching these things unravel before him. He felt so numb, so distant from the shock.

His father went on.

“Your mother would often scold me for being too cold and focused on the practical things in life. For being unable to either voice or show what I felt. For being unable to understand what others felt.”

It had been four years since they had spoken about Sophie Agreste. Adrien was afraid that he might suffocate with his throat clenching shut all of a sudden.

“That never changed but she always balanced it out. She understood me and compensated for my lack of warmth.”

Gabriel’s serious gaze turned to him.

“It was never ideal but it worked and we loved each other.”

Adrien was listening to it but his brain stuttered at every attempt at processing what was being said to him. It was his luck his father took his time with choosing his words carefully.

“When we had you, Sophie was ecstatic. She loved you more than words could express; would not give you to anyone, me included.”

Why was he always crying? Why was he always crying these days? By any means, he should have shrivelled up like a mummy with how much he had wept this past week.

Gabriel thoughtfully considered him for a moment before setting the book aside and going on.

“While I had no problem with that, I wished to provide the both of you with the best comfort and lifestyle a man could earn through hard work.”

Adrien tried to dry his eyes but his success was minimal.

“I never wanted you to have to face the same shortcomings I did as a child.”

Adrien knew about his father’s difficult past and family situation. His mother used to explain Gabriel’s decisions and demeanour with it. It was one of the reasons Adrien had never complained once his mother had disappeared.

His father reached into his pocket and drew out one of those old, embroidered tissue handkerchiefs. Adrien actually found it funny just how old-fashioned his father could be at times but the small gesture meant so much to him. A part of him also suspected that his father simply was disgusted at him trying to discreetly wipe snot on his sleeve.

As he took it, his father turned away again, giving him time to compose himself some more.

“You surely remember how I told you how at a loss I was when Sophie disappeared.”

Adrien nodded, handkerchief still pressed to his nose for good measure. He remembered their talk from four years ago almost verbatim. It had not been overly long and as such had proved not very difficult to memorize.

As Gabriel had previously admitted, he was not a very expressive man but in the evening light, Adrien could see the guilt edged into his face.

“I thought that by giving you a good education, something that had been difficult for me to obtain, I could set you a goal to work towards and prepare you a road for your future.”

He paused and Adrien saw him clasping his hands.

“I was lying to the both of us.”

He admitted it openly, although Adrien was not sure where his father was going.

His father seemed hesitant to go on, face once again unreadable but the fact that he was still staring at his hands was telling, meaning that whatever he was thinking about, he did not know how to address.

“What do you mean?”, Adrien ventured, wincing at how snuffy his voice sounded.

Gabriel lifted his head to look at him again, before turning back to his hands. Adrien guessed that it was easier for him to talk that way.

“Ever since Sophie disappeared, I have lived my life in fear of the same thing happening to you.”

Adrien frowned slightly, something in his stomach curdling like milk gone sour: bitterness, disappointment, resentment.

Feelings nurtured and repressed for years, making themselves known now that there was evidence for some of his darker, lonely musings being true.  
It somewhat hurt to know that he had been partly right about his father’s less than noble motivations to keep him under lock and constant observation.

At the same time, it was a relief.

“Is that why you want me to stop going to school?”

His father’s eyes closed in what Adrien hoped was shame.

“Yes.”

The anger was hard to control, the accusatory tone impossible to.

“You were the one disappearing.”, Adrien said quietly but with emphasis, “I had to run after you. Not the other way around.”

His father looked offended but Adrien did not allow himself to back down on this. Gabriel’s grey eyes searched his green ones.

“I ran after you and after your approval. All I did… I did in hopes of you looking my way.”

His father’s eyes shone with surprise. He turned away again, expression contemplative.

It was astounding how quickly the mood between them had changed. From here on out, every step had to be taken carefully. The air was charged with too many bottled-up emotions: neither wanted to be the one to light the spark that might bring this moment of tentative understanding crashing down.

“Could you elaborate?”, Gabriel finally asked, studying him.

It was so hard not to cave in and say the words he knew would please his father, instead of those which needed to be said.

“Many of the classes and activities I do outside of school, even the modeling, I only did because I hoped you would take notice of my efforts.”

He thought twice about adding that at least, when it had only been the two of them, he had taken notice. But that was a can of worms that definitely should _not_ be opened. Not now anyway.

“And you would drop all of them, if you could?”

Adrien was taken aback by the sincerity in those words. His father was looking straight at him, waiting for an answer.

Taking a leap of faith he said: “Most of them. I happen to like Chinese and fencing.”

Adrien felt trepidation as he watched his father whose frown usually was not a good sign. Gabriel once again settled his gaze on the floor, mulling quietly as always.

“I _am_ grateful that I was able to learn so much but it has become overwhelming over the years.”, Adrien finally added, if just to appease his father.

Gabriel nodded but did not otherwise reply.

The silence stretched on in the almost darkness of the night. In an attempt to ease his nerves Adrien got up and switched on the light, the brightness somewhat hurting his eyes.

Nervously, he briefly considered just leaning against the couch to put a bit of distance between himself and his father.

As soon as he realized what he had thought he decided to do the opposite, settling himself next to Gabriel, although making sure he was not invading his father’s personal space.

His father glanced at him shortly.

“Is it that important to you to go back to school?”

Adrien did not hesitate: “More than you can imagine.”

The ‘No’ came shortly after, making Adrien look up at his father doubtingly.

“I have no difficulties imagining it, but I did forget.”

Adrien was stunned into silence as warm, long fingers clasped his shoulder – fumbling first, but then settling. His father was staring ahead but held onto him.

“I had an appointment planned for next Wednesday with Monsieur Lamare.”, he explained, knowing that Adrien was well acquainted with the man and his name after years of annual assessment meetings. “I shall cancel it and withdraw your application for home-schooling.”

Adrien could feel his eyes bulging.

“Tomorrow, I would still ask you to take part in the shoot for the summer collection. Afterwards, you will have time to sort out a new schedule with Nathalie according to you likes and wishes.”

Adrien clenched his fists because he would not cry right now, he really should not, not right now…

The fingers on his shoulder remained firm.

“I would be glad, if you did continue to work for the family business.”

He was done. It was over. He was crying.

“Just when I had myself back under control, you have to say this kind of stuff.”, he laughed wetly, “Admit you did it on purpose.”

His father’s face was blurry as their eyes met.

“Then I may be able to sober you up again: I will expect you to do better in school with fewer responsibilities to attend to.”

Before Adrien could interpret more into it his farther added: “Just because you are doing well, does not mean you can’t do better. I have seen you do so already.”

Adrien nodded vigorously, gulping to keep himself from sobbing out loud but spraying tears everywhere in the process.

He refrained from hugging his father. It was already a milestone that he was touching his shoulder. Hugs he could reserve for Plagg, Ladybug and Nino once he saw them.

With his father, he was content to just let his own hand rest on top of Gabriel’s.

Maybe he could allow himself to hope again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s it! We have now reached the end of this story, although I might write an epilogue for this but for now that will be all.  
> This work is very dear to me for many reasons and contains some very personal experiences that I tried to cope with through writing this story. It was rather therapeutic (hahaha).
> 
> But real talk: If any of you feel the way Adrien does, even just remotely, please go and seek out help whether professional or a friend's. Dealing with depression on your own is not healthy.
> 
> Thank you again for your continued support and for having believed in me! See you next season!

**Author's Note:**

> Fileur - is someone spinning threads, like a cotton spinner or ,in this particular case, a spinner of spider webs. There is also the French verb 'filer' which means to run away.


End file.
